


the vault of little things

by delurks



Series: beyond the borderlands [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe, Borderlandscast, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 10:05:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 45
Words: 55,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11355222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delurks/pseuds/delurks
Summary: a bunch of headcanons and fic gathered up from the borderlandscast blog and archived here.





	1. rythian

**Author's Note:**

> updates are likely to be very sporadic, so do keep an eye on the blog for updates! the ask box is always open.

happiness: **  
**

> it’s extremely rare for rythian to be truly happy. it doesn’t even occur to him that it’s possible for someone to be happy to begin with, let alone for him to be that person. the last time he’d ever been that happy was when he’d graduated from university. that’d been years ago.
> 
> he finds fleeting happiness in the smallest of pleasures instead: a new gun, finishing a sketch, being paid, company that won’t drive him up the wall, an uneventful night with a roof over his head, a warm, filling meal and a drink to quench his thirst; he doesn’t ask for much these days.

anger:

> rythian tends to withdraw into himself when he’s angry. he’s never liked physically expressing his anger in violent bursts or taking it out on whatever’s closest to him. so he withdraws instead and prefers to rely on words. 
> 
> words proved better weapons (more so than guns, knives or fists), in his opinion; they could do much more damage when least expected. everything else is just a contingency plan.

body:

> he’s always been skinny. being tall makes it worse. tall and skinny is not a great combination for going outside in public. gaining body weight is like moving mountains, so he’s long since become comfortable with the fact that no matter how much he eats, the needle on the scale won’t ever budge past a certain number.
> 
> losing body weight on the other hand? that happens more often than he’d like; human bodies (especially his own) baffled him. seriously, what is up with that?

mental state:

> sit him down with one of the best therapists in the universe and he’ll clam up. won’t say a word, only ever nods or shakes his head, only ever answers the ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions. dodges other questions like they’re bullets, shields himself with silence, letting it speak for him. 
> 
> old habits are nigh impossible to break, especially if their purpose is to protect. hard to shake the mentality that even the most well-intentioned of strangers are out to get him.
> 
> sit him down with ravs and teep though and it’s almost impossible to shut him up. he’s never liked having strangers pick through his thoughts like paging through an open book. having a friend do so instead is much more preferable.
> 
> at least they won’t think he’s barking up the wrong tree if something is off. if they meddle or intervene, he’s less likely to resist or put up a fight. he welcomes it, most days.

pet peeve:

> he uses jakobs because they’ve never failed him yet, in all his years of being on pandora. it only takes one shot from a jakobs pistol to finish the job where it would have taken three, even five, shots from other pistol brands. call him unfashionable, picky or stuck-up all you want, one shot is all it takes to make a difference. 
> 
> so really, people should give more thought into what it really means to pick a certain manufacturer on pandora rather than insult other people’s tastes. 
> 
> sadly, that doesn’t have appear to have sunk into his friend’s heads.

food:

> he takes his coffee full on black. no sugar, no milk. just add boiling water. he used to have a sweet tooth rivalling ravs’ but these days, sugar and milk are luxury items, so rythian’s long since used to the taste of coffee as it is.
> 
> even if ravs gives him the choice of milk and/or sugar, rythian still chooses to take his coffee as bitter incarnate. in his opinion, it’s better than the diabetes inducing shit ravs makes and drinks.

childhood:

> he spent his childhood chasing after mysteries. when he was a toddler, it was fairytales, deities and legends (the one about the sirens would always captivate him, so please, please,  _please_  tell it again, he promises he’ll go to sleep after). 
> 
> when he was five, it was dinosaurs (dinosaurs will always have a special place in his heart, fuck anyone who thinks they’re not cool).
> 
> when he was seven, it was unsolved historical mysteries. his parents probably regret giving him that one book, the one about eridanus that’d set it all off. 
> 
> maybe it wasn’t exactly an appropriate choice of book to give to an ambitious, overly curious seven year old who spent their spare time coming up with convoluted theories and hypotheses about what could have happened, waffling on about them at dinnertime.
> 
> he got into fights at school when discussions turned into arguments and arguments turned into scuffles (surprise, he didn’t have a lot of friends as a result but the ones that stuck by him? if he hadn’t gotten stranded on pandora, he’d have still remained in touch).
> 
> it’s a good thing his family humored him or else he’d been set on a very different path. what were his parents  _thinking_? they’d always been the type to ‘broaden’ interests (books being an excellent choice but  _eridanus_ , good grief, if he’s ever having kids, he’ll have to pick something more age-appropriate and slightly less exciting).
> 
> now that he thinks about it as an adult, ten and fourteen (and still growing into his body at the time) were probably when he’d made up his mind to make a career into chasing after mysteries.
> 
> of course, his entire family was puzzled; there were more tangible, lucrative things to pursue instead (like good old fashioned, hard science), so why spend his life tracking down the ghosts of things that were no more?
> 
> he gets into his first choice of university with his first choice of degree and major and that’s the end of all the arguments.


	2. lalna

happiness:

a list of things (in no specific order) that currently makes lalna happy:

  * finding parts for larry robert
  * repairing larry robert
  * driving the technical
  * shooting things from the technical (preferably when nanosounds isn’t driving)
  * getting a good night’s sleep (see ‘anger’ below)
  * testing a new gun
  * liking a new gun
  * keeping a new gun
  * seeing rythian
  * making fun of strife’s suit behind his back
  * not being punched, kicked, shoved around or being bullied by nanosounds
  * compliments from ravs
  * hugs (giving or receiving)
  * food that isn’t skag meat (see ‘food’ below)
    * addendum (since t-bone junction visit): food that isn’t rations
  * blowing something up and walking away from the explosion without looking back at it
  * not using fast travel (preferably not ever)
  * not throwing up after being teleported by rythian
  * headshots
  * not being somewhere up high
  * chocolate (not the ration kind; actual, real chocolate)
  * not getting sunburned
  * dolla dolla bills y’all
  * not freezing to death
  * not being burned alive
  * not being shot at
  * not being blown up by grenades or rockets
  * not being burned by acid



anger:

> lalna tends to say things he ends up regretting when he’s angry. it stems from having grown up alongside a sibling where getting in the last word is all that matters, in an argument. he always apologizes but he can never explain why he always does it and really, he tries to stop himself but the words always end up being said. it’s why he doesn’t like being angry in the first place.

body:

> HE IS VERY SMOL (ONE OF THE FIVE MOST SHORTEST CHARACTERS IN THIS AU) AND THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW.

mental state:

> he’s had nightmares about the frigate for weeks now. not every time he dreams, but it’s happened enough times for him to dread falling asleep. he hides it (conceal, don’t feel), but he has a suspicion that strife, lalna and rythian suspect that he’s not sleeping as well as he used to.
> 
> the longer he spends on pandora, the more he becomes divided between staying or going. if anybody were to offer him a way off pandora now, he would probably take it in a heartbeat (no matter the cost).

pet peeve:

> he hates it when people insult larry robert. the loaders might not be built for long term fighting (more like cannon fodder providing free, effective, physical labor) but he still cares for larry robert, like any other machine under his care.
> 
> sure, he might put larry robert in dangerous situations but after every battle, he goes over every screw, nut, bolt and wiring in larry robert and makes sure larry robert is as good as new.
> 
> no sense in having one of his only means of defence and offence break down at the worst possible time, after all. it’s silly but he considers larry robert to be a ‘friend’, even if said ‘friend’ can’t talk to him at all, so any conversations are very much one-sided.
> 
> so let’s just say he tends to react ‘badly’ if people mouth off about larry robert. it’s probably just his imagination but once he’s done giving people a piece of his mind about it, there’s a sense of gratitude emanating from larry robert.

food:

> he’ll try anything once, provided it  _looks_  and  _smells_  edible. even if he’s now used to eating skag meat, he’d rather prefer beef, chicken or pork, despite having to pay a little more for rations with meat that doesn’t come from skags.
> 
> eating something that’d come from skags rubs him the wrong way. maybe it’s the fact that skags eat and crap from the same hole and are cannibals. yeah, that’s probably it; that’s the last time he’ll ever listen to anything zoeya ever tells him about pandoran wildlife.

health:

> it took him three months of constant physiotherapy for him to prepare for the installation of his prosthetic arm and another five months to finally be able to pick up a glass of water without accidentally crushing it with the strength of his grip. it annoys him that it’d taken him this long to master his arm for fine and delicate tasks.
> 
> he knows he’d have mastered it sooner but the arm they’d installed the first time hadn’t been calibrated properly plus an unexpected malfunction, so he’d had to refund it and wait even longer for a replacement to be approved and sent. he has never hated waiting so much in his entire life before.
> 
> honestly, he could have taken the goddamned arm apart himself but that would have voided the warranty faster than he could say ‘calibration protocol done, my ass’.
> 
> the second arm they’d sent him was just as bunk at the first (he should have taken the brand lalnable had offered but they’re not talking), so he’d just thrown in the towel, taken it apart, reconnected the wiring and recalibrated the sensitivity and well, what do you know, it’s now functioning perfectly. he’d have said it’s functioning even better.

childhood:

> lalna is a little ashamed to say that he should have been a better brother and twin, especially since he’s the older one (by five seconds). five seconds didn’t usually dictate so much but being born five seconds earlier means he’s the designated older brother.
> 
> he’s always been the more outgoing and friendlier of the two, the one making friends off the bat even in kindergarten. lalnable sort of floundered in that department, preferring interests and curiosities over people; the two never exactly drifted apart because what sort of terrible child abandoned their twin at the first sign of friendship?
> 
> so he’d stuck by lalnable all through kindergarten, primary school. and high school. even if friendships broke or people drifted away because he chose lalnable over them. friends couldn’t replace his twin, even if his twin had an odd, prickly way of showing his gratitude sometimes.
> 
> they fought about it sometimes (he’d gotten in more punches, bites and kicks than lalnable, every time), much to their parents’ dismay. as they got older, the fight simply became restricted to barbs, jabs and sniping. thankfully the house had been big enough for them to never share a room.
> 
> still, they shared a mutual interest in tinkering (thanks to their grandparents letting them watch them take apart old things and once they’d been old enough, had let them help) even if lalnable grew out of it but still knew and learned enough to hold a decent discussion with lalna about it.
> 
> when it came to university though, they had the first of many, serious arguments. it’d been about lalnable choosing to board at his university (one of the best medical schools on this side of the galaxy), rather than following lalna to his choice (a planet away, one of the top engineering facilities but with a dismal, piss-poor medical school faculty from his twin’s perspective; really, his  _fifth choice_ ).
> 
> for the first time, they’d be separated from one another, not something that lalna is comfortable with (having seen each other every day in person).
> 
> the next time they’d see each other in person is at lalna’s graduation (he’d graduated first, of course). lalna had practically tackle-hugged lalnable, held him tight in a bear hug and wouldn’t let go for five minutes. lalnable grumbled but let him hang on. 


	3. nanosounds

happiness:

> the best kind of happiness is finding somewhere she belongs. she’s found it and nobody, not even her mother, could take that away from her. it’s why she’d chased after zylus (hadn’t known it was him at the time) so doggedly through the scrapyard because it’ll be  _over her dead body_  that she’ll let her happiness be blown to bits so soon after finding it.
> 
> she’s found people who aren’t afraid of her, aren’t afraid of being her friends, shortly after. it’ll also be over her dead body that she won’t put her powers to use in protecting both (and may the universe have mercy on whoever forces her to choose between them).

anger:

> fun fact: she’s never lost control of her powers when she’s angry. her tattoos might flare as if her blood is running too hot for her body and she gets a dangerous glint in her eyes, but she’s never, ever, spawned anything when she’s upset.
> 
> people edge away from her whenever she loses her temper because she gets a bit shouty and tends to gesture (she generally talks with her hands and when she’s upset, it’s no exception). losing control when angered is a line she’s yet to cross.
> 
> she’s not looking forward to the day she does step over that line and continue past the point of no return.

body:

> most sirens that nanosounds has seen pictures of (rare but they exist, if one knows where to look, even as carvings or historical sketches) are elegant, tall and beautiful women who could also happened to melt people’s brains but people always seemed to be focused on the former part, more so than the latter.
> 
> she can tell when people first meet her; their eyes travel to the tattoos on her left arm, then over the rest of her and think: she’s nothing like the others. even if they’ve never met a siren before.
> 
> she blows those expectations out of the water by proving she’s just as lethal and elegant as her predecessors while going to town with a machine gun they don’t expect her to be able to shoot let alone lift,  _and_ while spawning eldritch monstrosities left and right.
> 
> it’s their fear that satisfies her but even more is the message she sends: don’t fuck with a siren, even if they think she’s too short to be that dangerous.

mental state:

> of course she has feelings, moods and emotions like any other human being. and like any other human being, she gets tired of people. to her, she tires of them more quickly than an introvert at one of the universe’s biggest gatherings of extroverts. she’s never been good with solitude though.
> 
> meditation makes that even more pronounced. for the first time, she chooses to meditate on recent events, to consider the possibility that for once, it’s not other people that’s she’s tired of, it might be the other way around. there is a wrong that she wants to set right even if black and white didn’t necessarily exist on pandora.

pet peeve:

> concept: plodding through dirt, sand, mud and scenery and trying to stay clean at the same time is like telling a charging rakk hive to sod off and expect it to do so. of course she’s used to the traveling and accumulating layers upon layers of gunk over time.
> 
> it’s when the others don’t want to shower off when they have the chance to do so will always gross her out. it’s not because she’s the only woman on the team; rythian and strife are also of the same mind. it’s because lalna will always insist that he’s fine. even if he’s covered in grime from head to toe.
> 
> it’s  _disgusting_. no human being should have to go for more than a solid week without a shower of some kind. in fact, she’ll have to ask lalnable about lalna hating baths as a kid because it would explain _so much_.
> 
> still, it’s always hysterically funny to her and strife to hear lalna scream bloody murder whenever rythian randomly teleports him under the cold shower if only to rinse him off a little.

food:

> she really like snacks. if they’re a local delicacy, even better. she’s the type of person who’d be offered a fried tarantula, a marinated wing or the tempura battered tongue of some local species in the local market and she’d pay for it, then wolf it down on the spot without batting an eyelid. she’s just as adventurous with her food as she is with her whims.
> 
> she’s always confused though, when her traveling companions end up with indigestion or at trapped in the hotel bathroom for two hours, throwing up or worse and she’s just chewing on another snack, wondering what’s wrong with them. lesser known advantage of being a siren: you’ve got the stomach to go with the powers.


	4. will strife

happiness:

> the first and only time he’d ever fired a gun was back in university. he’d taken a course in how to handle guns, purely for the fun of it (much to the horror of his classmates, especially xephos, who disdained violence in any form; they’d soon parted ways after graduation). he’d been surprised to find out that the experience had resonated rather well with him.
> 
> just as well, since he’d desperately had to refer to said lessons within a week of arriving on pandora. big mistake to sign up for tagging along with six, well-loaded caravans headed out west from t-bone junction without an escort to match. the town could only spare six drivers with just enough room on one for a tourist to hitch a ride.
> 
> a small town like t-bone junction couldn’t spare its only defender to escort the caravans to the next town over, which badly needed supplies or risk bandits attacking once they’d left.
> 
> back in those days, bandits kept watch of who arrived and went from town, up until said defender took offence to being watched and wiped out all the nearby encampments to maintain their privacy (or the town’s, hard to tell).
> 
> without an escort according to intel, those caravans should have been easy pickings or so the bandits had thought.
> 
> they hadn’t counted on an unassuming, well-dressed businessman to shed his jacket (later torn up and used as a tourniquet on a wounded driver) at the first sign of trouble and take up arms alongside the caravan drivers.
> 
> the caravan drivers had made the resupply run to the next town multiple times in their lives. out of the original twenty, only six of them now remained. they’d expected to die doing said run because that’s just how it is on pandora: you died trying and the world moved on like it always did.
> 
> out of them, at least one caravan should have made it to the next town, which is all that mattered. just one and then, their efforts wouldn’t have been all for nothing. the rest became bandit pickings and skag food.
> 
> they’d thought as much as the bandit technicals riding alongside them began hijacking manoeuvres, until will strife decided to get involved. the first hook had clanged so close to his boot, latching onto the rear railing that all he had to do to unhook it was plant his boot firmly on top of it and push it off.
> 
> on impulse, he’d placed a sticky on the falling chain. he’d alerted the rest of the bandits to his presence once the technical the chain had returned to had blown up.
> 
> the driver (never taking their eyes off the road) had handed him a dahl assault rifle and well, not knowing what else to do, will had climbed up on top and unleashed hell.
> 
> will had put his foot in one grave, might as well put both feet in and hope for the best.
> 
> later that day, six caravans (looking worse for wear, absolutely riddled with bullet-holes, exteriors charred and hook marks gouging open holes in places but most importantly, intact and bearing supplies) rolled into their destination with one rattled but alive will strife.
> 
> for his efforts, will strife is gifted his new best friend, the last of its kind on pandora: the atomic turret.
> 
> the driver lets him keep the assault rifle and grenade mod. will strife has never been so happy to be  _alive_  before. look out pandora, here comes will strife with his new best friend.
> 
> really, paperwork just seemed so mundane compared to  _this_.
> 
> he later realizes that it’s the first time he’s ever killed another human being and the only thing he can think of is how satisfying it’d been. nothing personal, just another form of a job. and thus, staying alive on pandora takes on a new meaning of happiness for him from thereon.

pet peeves: **  
**

> he hates it when his clothes get wrecked. stains, tears, nicks or any sort of damage pertaining to his clothes? it’s enough to put him into a bad mood for the rest of the day. as for why he simply couldn’t change his clothes, the reason is simple: he doesn’t want to.
> 
> his wardrobe has several identical outfits, each with some minute variations between them that only someone intimately familiar with him in the first place could pick out said differences. nobody’s currently filing in that spot, so to the other vault hunters, it’s like he’s wearing the same outfit constantly.
> 
> he’d arrived on pandora wearing these outfits and he’ll leave pandora wearing them. what people don’t expect is that his outfit is a lot more resilient than it looks; the material is made out of the same sort of stuff soldiers wore, except rendered more stylishly. just as practical, even if the other vault hunters questioned it constantly. the only exception are his ties.
> 
> all his ties are made out of silk and will is always careful to maintain them in nothing but the best of tumble-dry washes, even if he hogged one entire washing machine just to clean them (annoying rythian and co. in the process because JUST PUT ALL YOUR LAUNDRY IN AT ONCE, NOBODY CARES).
> 
> the tie is the only thing that’s from his original, not-military fibre outfit that he deigns to keep on him. it’s comforting, that’s all, a reminder that he hasn’t completely gone native, in a sense.
> 
> regardless, he’d paid good money for those clothes. he’d done his research and anticipated the sort of difficulties he’d encounter while on pandora and geared himself up accordingly. getting those clothes commissioned had been worth several paychecks but he’ll be damned if he stops wearing them just because they couldn’t stand up to their intended purposes. or if people thought he’s just being stubborn.
> 
> it still annoys him whenever they get damaged or dirtied in some small way. will is not a tailor, so repairing them costs quite a bit, let alone finding someone who knows what they’re doing. he’s already lost his jacket to a mishap upon arriving on this planet.
> 
> he’s not going to lose the rest of his outfits in the same manner if he can help it.

love/sexuality:

> not straight; bisexual, biromantic.
> 
> will realizes that pandora is not exactly conducive to endeavours of the romantic kind. he’s had a few casual relationships that never went anywhere serious but this was back when he was in high school and university.
> 
> just a teenager exploring their boundaries and figuring out the joys of puberty, basically. a young man who’s only just finished growing into his body and regretting all his past, casual flings now since leaving someone always proved to be exceedingly messy and well, people will be people.
> 
> he’s on quite a few people’s shit lists but the nice thing about space travel is putting a few plants and star systems between him and them, so he’s safe.
> 
> will’s since put that experimental and haphazard life behind him for good.
> 
> nowadays, he’s focused on getting his consulting firm up and running for the long-term. while he is interested in a relationship, so it’s pretty much on the backburner. doesn’t mean he can’t help but scope out potential interests while he’s doing his thing on pandora, though.
> 
> it’s called  _multitasking_.
> 
> what can he say, his tastes are proving eclectic; maybe that’s something to consider about pandora. that planet has unexpected effects on everyone. doing something to his tastes in people is perhaps one of them.
> 
> it also probably says a lot about lonely it can get on pandora when you’ve got people still trying to find love on such a desolate, hellish planet. the reason he claims in signing up for that dating site is to troll lalnable. the actual reason is kind of embarrassing (and one that lalnable, if he finds out, is never going to let him live down).
> 
> so far, will hasn’t found anyone worth getting to know and probably won’t because he’s a busy guy and doesn’t always check his inbox for that site.
> 
> he also doesn’t want to fully realize how futile it is because honestly, what are the chances (houston, we have a problem, critical fail in the department that’s called ‘will strife’s love life’).
> 
> humans could be really  _sad_  and will isn’t an exception, even if he tries to hide it. 


	5. nilesy

happiness: **  
**

> his number one goal is to find a cat because cats are the ultimate happiness any one person can have (or so he believes). it remains one of the few things that he won’t let Pandora take away from him (next to his friends).

anger:

> there are few things in the world that make nilesy truly angry: unreasonable people, being ripped off, people insulting cats, skinny-dipping in his pool without prior permission (gross) but most of all, threatening his friends. nilesy usually doesn’t like punching people but threatening his friends is an instant one-way ticket to earning his wrath and being disliked.
> 
> since ravs taught nilesy how to throw a decent punch, nilesy can actually do some damage. when he’d thrown a punch and ravs had caught it, he’d felt warm fingers gently close around his knuckles and he’d never forgotten how his bones had turned to porcelain in that second.
> 
> ravs had smiled and told him that porcelain, even broken, could do damage, if he, nilesy, really put his mind to it; that’s one hell of a confidence boost. so he’s not afraid to throw a punch when he has to.
> 
> anyways, nilesy certainly doesn’t forget or forgive easily. he’s the sort of person who gets upset on his friends’ behalf. if they won’t get mad, he certainly will; his anger burns hot and bright, continuing to smoulder long after it seems like he’s stopped looking mad to onlookers.

body:

> list of people who have been able to pick him up:

  * ravs
  * lomadia
  * zoeya
  * rythian
  * nanosounds
  * strippin
  * benji
  * turpster
  * will strife
  * saberial



> list of people who are allowed to pick him up without being punched in the face:

  * ravs
  * lomadia



mental state:

> ever since moving into sanctuary hole, nilesy’s found that his general mood has improved (even if turpster is now the meriff). he’s never thanked rythian for inviting him to sanctuary hole. he probably should, one of these days when he gets the chance and whenever he remembers.
> 
> don’t worry, he hadn’t left all his cat items back in oasis. he’s since filled up all the walls of his bedroom with all the cat memorabilia he’d taken from his hotel from oasis. even turpster couldn’t ruin cats for him.
> 
> ravs doesn’t know. and no, his mood has certainly not improved because he now sees ravs in person everyday. if anything, he finds the daily banter worth it.

pet peeve:

> see ‘anger’ above.

food:

> he’s been self-sufficient in the kitchen for years now (or else he’d have starved to death years ago). nilesy can make almost anything edible if presented with a random assortment of ingredients; suitable ones, of course. his culinary wizardry can only be stretched so far. and no, he’s not the one who taught ravs how to cook (that’s another story for another time).
> 
> the thing nilesy is most proud of is being able to make a  _mean_  omelette or being able to do anything with eggs. eggs are  _versatile_. eggs were one of the first things he experimented with, ever since he’d been old enough to hold a frying pan and lift it on his own without needing help from either of his parents. it’d been at the tender age of five.
> 
> he gets a little homesick sometimes, whenever he cooks eggs.

health:

> for someone who’s lived as long on pandora that he might as well be considered a native (it slips into his accent sometimes, especially noticeable in the way he pronounces certain words, like ‘flaming tequila shot’), nobody in oasis has ever seen nilesy so much as cough or sniffle. the rumors go around and sure enough, his hotel business drops by about 5%.
> 
> for some strange reason, nilesy doesn’t mind when normally he’d be agonizing  over the numbers, given the reason for the drop in patronage. it happens roughly around the time that ravs shows up for his monthly visit to oasis.
> 
> he brings it up to him then. ravs listens, smiles, then bursts out laughing once nilesy’s done regaling the tale of the town’s obsession over his personal health. ravs pats nilesy on the shoulder, shaking his head and says sympathetically, “it’ll blow over; people are bored these days and tv is shite.”
> 
> nilesy is getting pretty sick (pun not intended) of it. people keep asking about the secret to his immunity, given everything pandora can throw at his immune system and he’ll always come out on top. it’s like a hurricane sweeping through a town and he’ll be miraculously standing in the wreckage with nary a scratch on him.
> 
> _there is no secret._
> 
> but no matter how much he insists, the people are convinced he’s hiding one. if this keeps up, there’ll be a cult springing up around him and while nilesy believes in people freely practicing religion as they see fit, provided they didn’t shove it into other people’s faces, this is something he can’t exactly ignore for that much longer.
> 
> so he wants to nip it in the bud before he becomes an icon of some kind. he sighs and ravs caves.
> 
> “alright, alright, i’ll see what i can do. you might not like what i have planned.”
> 
> “do it! i don’t fucking care what’ll happen, anything is better than what i’m hearing behind my back.”
> 
> nilesy has always bought his newspaper from the general store. every single day, even if there isn’t much to the paper, he still buys it without fail. today however, the handsome vault hunter shows up in his place. the general store owner tries not to stare too much.
> 
> ravs returns the change that they’d miscalculated with a wink, commentating, “sorry for being a distraction.”
> 
> the general store owner realizes that ravs is buying the newspaper instead of nilesy. “where’s nilesy?”
> 
> ravs shrugs. “out like a log in his bed; came down with a cold, apparently.” he then mischievously adds, “don’t worry, i’m taking good care of him.”
> 
> he walks out with the newspaper before the general store owner can extract more information. the owner waits before dialing up everyone they know to spread this new salacious rumor.
> 
> nilesy emerges from his hotel a week later after being a no-show, with ravs running his errands for him the entire time. at this point, rumors of nilesy being immortal, a robot, a werewolf, secretly a siren to begin with or such have died down, only to be replaced with comments of sympathy (and jealous remarks). 
> 
> business in his hotel returns to normal.
> 
> “better?” ravs asks him. nilesy nods, relieved that things had ended well.
> 
> “better, even if we’re not actually  _dating_.”
> 
> “i did warn you. if anybody wants to pick a fight with you over being too jealous, just point them in my direction, will you?”
> 
> “i’ll definitely do that. thanks again, ravs.” nilesy bids him goodbye until his next visit. and when he moves into sanctuary hole, the people there are less nosy and content to leave matters well enough alone, which nilesy appreciates more than he should. 


	6. ravs

happiness: **  
**

> he asks for only one thing really, and that is for his friends to be safe. ‘safe’ could mean any number of things, from them being well-fed, to having a roof over their heads (even if he’s the one providing the roof or the meal). this could alternatively be interpreted as: his happiness is other people’s happiness.
> 
> it doesn’t take much to make ravs happy since he has such low standards, so for him to be down means something is horribly wrong.
> 
> that said, he has a nasty habit of putting himself second when it comes to his friends. if nilesy’s in trouble, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to come bail nilesy out of whatever bind he’s in.
> 
> helping rythian and teep? when those two had gone awol for the longest time (dropped off the grid entirely, never answered his calls), ravs had worried incessantly; he’d been working two jobs at the time (half the pay going into rebuilding sanctuary hole, the remaining half split between himself and the folks back home), so he hadn’t been able to go after them.
> 
> they’d also expressed a firm desire to see him safe, for him to stay where he was, by luck (or fate or unlucky coincidence), spared from whatever fate they’d later suffer. when it’s all over, ravs wishes he’d gone with them if only for to have a shot at bringing them both back in one piece since they’d suffered so horribly; and still are, he supposes.
> 
> he does his best to make sure teep is doing fine but even now, there are days where teep wanders off (they always came back in the end, better than when they’d first wandered off). when rythian had vanished into thin air, ravs had _blamed himself_.
> 
> is he a bad friend? it’s rare that he’d pushes rythian a little far with the teasing (that one time teep and he had teamed up to drive rythian up the wall had been one of them). it’s hard to stop himself from thinking that he’s the cause of driving his friends away, for all his confidence.
> 
> nilesy and teep had put his fears straight and stopped him from going after rythian despite the slim chances of actually finding him. in a way, they’ve returned the favor of looking out for him when it’s usually the other way around. so, with that, ravs has never stopped caring about the people in his life, not even if he’d wanted to.
> 
> it’s why he makes it a point to keep in touch with all of his friends more so than he had in the past. somewhere, in the back of his mind, he fears history will repeat itself.
> 
> ravs doesn’t look like a person who worries, but he does, despite appearing so carefree (which is partially an act but for the most part, it’s genuine).
> 
> exceptions don’t usually happen. zylus is one of them. ravs doesn’t blame him one bit for falling out of touch but he’d been over the moon upon hearing from rythian that zylus is still alive. because it’s rare that people stayed alive on pandora, long enough to meet up with another familiar face.
> 
> ravs has since made it a point to go and visit him every weekend or so (and one of these days, he should really introduce nilesy and zylus to one another, see how they get along so that if he can’t go, nilesy can do so in his place).
> 
> one of the reasons why he’d been so upset about the missing power core is because if sanctuary hole goes down, then there goes the crooked caber and along with it, the sanctuary that he’d built with his own two hands, one of the few remaining bastions that rythian and co. could return to, as a home of sorts.
> 
> so when his friends talk in the crooked caber, he listens and is content with his life.

food:

> he learned how to cook from his mother. he left her behind when he got arrested and sent to pandora. that was largely his own fault for being too careless but she knows where he’d kept all the money from all that moonshine he’d illegally made and sold, so she’d be comfortable for a good while, long enough for him to find another job and continue sending whatever he made to her.
> 
> that is, what didn’t go towards his own needs (never his own ‘wants’, since it’s rare that he makes enough to indulge himself).
> 
> he’d started off mimicking her cooking out of necessity but it’d soon grew into something that’s uniquely his own style (because most, if not, all children eventually outgrew their mothers, in the end).
> 
> still, he finds her sometimes, whenever he cooks a recipe that he knows off by heart.
> 
> the recipes were passed down from her to him, dating back from her great-great grandmother; he’d been an only child, so it’d make sense for her to teach him everything she knew about how to avoid ‘starving to death’ and so that a piece of his childhood home goes with him wherever he travels.
> 
> people don’t eat his cooking much these days. they find it too nostalgic. they’d much prefer booze, which has the opposite effect (to forget).
> 
> ravs jokes that the reason why he’s able to wrestle bullymongs bare-handed is because of his mother’s cooking; he got an early start on building muscle thanks to her (what he really means is that he’s a mama’s boy and yes, teep, he has no shame in admitting that out loud).
> 
> and yes, he still calls her at least once a month, just to let her know that he’s doing fine. she still frets over him ‘eating enough’ and he always assures her that he is. 
> 
> she never asks when he’s coming home either, because well, the answer it that is obvious (see ‘happiness’, above). 


	7. zylus

happiness:

> the day that bebopvox discovers music streaming and echoify playlists is the day that zylus can add ‘music’ to his very small list of things that make him endlessly happy. bebopvox shares their discovery, evidently delighted. in response, zylus digs up an old radio that’s still functional (dating back from atlas’ golden age, practically an antique).
> 
> after half an hour of tinkering, he’s managed to install one of the echonet wireless modules onto it so that bebop can pipe music straight to it.
> 
> he likes fyreuk station, usually listens to them when he remembers to but he’s curious as to what bebop has found out. he doesn’t have the luxury of going onto the echonet as often as bebop does so this is all new to him.
> 
> zylus starts when the first track starts to play, the volume way too loud and filling up the garage with godawful but catchy pop music. it’s certainly different to what he usually hears that when bebop asks if it’s suitable (likely fearing that he won’t like it), zylus tells them to let it play and resumes work in the garage to it.
> 
> it certainly makes his days a lot more bearable after that, to have music running in the background as he goes about his business. sometimes he even catches himself humming in time to the lyrics, even if he doesn’t know them.
> 
> if he does (and it’s rare when that happens since he’s been so out of touch with a world that’s not pandora), he sings under his breath. he’s embarrassed when bebop finally catches him and tells him that he has a lovely voice.
> 
> bebop is probably biased, since bebop’s heard a greater variety of voices and he’s sure that they’re just being nice. bebop continues to insist and right, let’s talk about something else like tracking down a new power core-NO, HE IS NOT EMBARRASSED, WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT.
> 
> it’s a sad day when the radio breaks, like everything else eventually does in t-bone junction and no amount of tinkering will repair it.

pet peeve:

> he hates pranks. he’s been subject to them many a time in his life. the dahl military hadn’t been any different to military school, university and basic training. when he’d started living in t-bone junction, people hadn’t dared play pranks on him since he’s the only one who could leave town with a high chance of not dying from anything (all that military and combat training coming in useful) and return with supplies.
> 
> plus, he’s an unknown amongst them, not a native pandoran but not entirely green to pandora’s way of life. anybody who’s spent time with vault hunters is bound to be able to handle their own, right? and is likely worth keeping around, since they also know vault hunters, who are a useful lot.
> 
> so his life is prank-free, up until everyone dies of the plague and then fucking hell, he forces daltos to move in with him. he’s well aware that boredom and daltos don’t play well. and daltos likes to get a rise out of him, one way or another. so he hopes daltos has grown out of that tendency of his.
> 
> when zylus wakes up way later than he’s supposed to, he thinks nothing of it (oh, he must have slept through his alarm, not the first time that’s happened). he just gets out of bed, and gets ready for the day. that night, he double-checks that his alarm is set and goes to sleep.
> 
> the exact same thing happens three more times. he just doesn’t hear his alarm go off and wakes up later than he’s supposed to. he checks, only to find out that his alarm is switched off, every single time.
> 
> that’s not supposed to happen, unless there’s something wrong with his echo device. so on the fourth day, he’s had enough and checks his device, running system diagnostics on it before he’s gotten out of bed.
> 
> while that’s happening, daltos wakes. he just rests back on the bed next to him, his arms folded underneath his head with a neutral expression on his face. it occurs to zylus that he might have had a hand in this and turns to him.
> 
> daltos has never complained about waking and sleeping at the same time as he does, but for the past three days, he’d seemed to enjoy sleeping in.
> 
> “did you turn off my alarm?”
> 
> “oh, so you finally noticed. took you long enough.” daltos doesn’t even try to deny it, a lazy grin slowly spreading across his face; he starts laughing, which pisses zylus off.
> 
> “you are the fucking  _worst_!” zylus shoves him out of the bed and disables ‘public inventory access’ in his settings so that this will never happen again.
> 
> meanwhile, daltos stands up and walks out of the room to get coffee, still laughing (he’d have fallen out of the bed from laughing too hard in the first place because the look on zylus’ face had been  _priceless_ ).


	8. daltos

happiness:

> people usually expect the leader of a bunch of bandits to have washed their hands of grunt work, but daltos finds it calming to simply sneak into one of the cargo bays (long since converted into a garage) where all the vehicles are kept, pick one that’s unattended and work on it, dredging up old knowledge from his degree and an old part-time job before mandatory dahl military school happened.
> 
> it always gives his bandits a nasty shock to find out that the person they’ve been grousing at for the past fifteen minutes is their boss, when he climbs out from underneath the technical he’s been working on. he particularly likes the look on their faces then.
> 
> he knows that tune-ups could suck, proving tedious, repetitive work. some of the bandits have been shirking their duties (he’ll have to find out who later) so that’s why he’d been able to sneak in.
> 
> the downside is that he’s always going to need a shower after and all the gunk, oil and grease is going to stick to his bare hands for weeks after but doing this keeps him from being bored. it’s nice not to think of ‘war’, for once.
> 
> he doesn’t let himself think about his life prior to pandora as it’s liable to put him into a bad mood. he can’t even stand  _himself_  when he’s in a bad mood. so he chats (never about himself, even if his silence just encouraged gossip and rumors as a result) to his bandits instead while he’s working, to fill in the silence.
> 
> the older bandits know to indulge him. they like to run their mouths anyway, providing steady background chatter while actually helping or simply being useless (only to just hand him tools or fetch this and that). the newer ones are reluctant to talk, considering how they’d ended up joining; daltos doesn’t blame them one bit.
> 
> when he starts living with zylus, he actually misses all of that, more than he lets on. he helps zylus out in the garage but only because it’s similar to what he did, even if it’s not quite the same.
> 
> he finds out about the radio when zylus moves to turn it on but stops himself, noting that ‘it’s broken, been that way for weeks now’, but there’s a wistfulness to his gaze when he looks at the radio.
> 
> daltos fixes it (unable to stand any more silence) while zylus is on the other side of town (dealing with a leaking water tower). it’s just a matter of cannibalizing the parts and wiring from other stuff in the garage and replacing what’s fried and rusted.
> 
> the next time zylus stops himself from turning on that radio, daltos leans over and turns it on for him. when the radio crackles to life and starts blaring music, the look on his face is- _no_.
> 
> daltos shakes his head and turns to him, if only to say, “you have the shittiest taste in music out of everyone i know. really,  _country_?” zylus flushes and changes the station to something more tolerable.
> 
> “that wasn’t what it was originally set to!”
> 
> “don’t worry, i’ll still love you even if you like country,” daltos tells him, sarcastically. zylus punches him hard enough in the arm to leave a bruise.

pet peeve:

> it pisses him off whenever people nag him about the smoking. apparently, his bandits don’t like it. it’s really weird that a bunch of bandits would get on his case about smoking; if they didn’t drive him up the wall in the first place, he wouldn’t resort to it so much.
> 
> the alternative to smoking is committing broad daylight murder, which his bandits are apparently okay with.
> 
> the first time he ever smoked was after stomping the remaining dahl captain’s face in for attempted murder and mutiny, walking outside of the frigate so he doesn’t feel so confined (hallways causing him to feel claustrophobic, no longer safe in the ship that he’d considered his home for over a year), only to run into a bandit smoking.
> 
> he’d always wondered about the appeal of smoking, so he’d just silently held out a hand for the cigarettes and the lighter; the bandit had promptly handed him both and hightailed it, apparently finally noticing the blood on his legs, boots and hands.
> 
> he’s not going to get lung cancer from smoking electronic cigarettes but people seemed to think they’re about as potent as the real thing. later, just as he’d told zylus, he’d gotten the hang of it pretty quickly.
> 
> since then, he’s learned to substitute his inclination for murdering his bandits with smoking whenever he’s stressed and it works.
> 
> he’s always careful to smoke only when he’s alone to avoid a long, tedious lecture about the dangers of smoking from his lieutenants.
> 
> _…morons._


	9. xephos

**happiness**

nothing makes xephos happier than having a new piece of technology that’s just arrived at Honeydew Inc. to set-up and fiddle with. they’d spent their entire degree playing around with technology, an interest they’d fostered ever since their parent had bought home a second-hand computer.

xephos had immediately dismantled it and poked about its insides, unable to stop their curiosity. said parent hadn’t been happy but at least it’d been second-hand tech and not something brand new.

xephos devours magazines covering the latest advances like they’re starved for news and fawned over the newest release, software, accessories or hardware; they’re not picky. technology changes all the time, so xephos is deeply invested into keeping up with recent developments.

honeydew knows that no matter what they’ll give xephos for their birthday, xephos will like it, but this year, honeydew wants something that’ll last for a long time, something that xephos will infinitely treasure but gets good use out of. honeydew is a firm believer in making every gift serve some sort of purpose, even if others didn’t see it right away.

it’s silly but he knows where xephos kept all the precious gifts he’d given, stashed in a lockbox within the recesses of their inventory.

this year, honeydew tries something different. while xephos is off overseeing a new shipment of monitors, honeydew sneaks into their office and steals the magazine that xephos has been recently drooling over, pocketing it and sneaking back out.

xephos is mystified by its disappearance, turning their office upside-down and inside-out for it but eventually shrugs, assuming they’ve just left it somewhere silly and that it’ll turn up in its own time.

honeydew feels bad, of course, watching xephos leaves no stone unturned in their search. later, when they’ve both retired to their bedrooms, honeydew takes a deep breath and cracks open the magazine, turning to the first page that isn’t the contents and skimming the very first article.

it’s all greek to him.

he understands _nothing_. while xephos had rambled on about what they’ve just read, honeydew indulges xephos but nothing they’d been so excited about has sunken in. honeydew recognizes a few keywords but aside from that, nothing makes sense.

his eyes are glazing over, but honeydew gathers his resolve, smacks himself on both cheeks and determinedly dives into deciphering this mysterious place that’s a source of xephos’ happiness to find the perfect gift. there has to be something in this magazine that’ll be of help.

two weeks of low-key searching pass and xephos is at a loss about their magazine. they can’t have disposed of it by accident, being careful to separate the ‘to recycle’ and ‘to keep’ piles, went through the entire apartment and office and still no sign of it.

honeydew doesn’t even read those sorts of magazines (eyes glazing over every single time xephos started to ramble about their beloved interest). it doesn’t even occur to xephos that he might have taken it, as a result.

speaking of which, honeydew sidles into his office, both hands held behind his back. there’s prominent bags under his eyes and he looks like a zombie but xephos raises an eyebrow at his odd behaviour.

“what is it, friend? you look like you need a nap. a very long nap,” they observe.

“what day is it today?” honeydew slyly asks.

“it’s-” xephos checks their desk calendar (a gift from the previous year), tapping their pen against their chin as they do so, “tuesday.”

“no, not the weekday, what day.” honeydew rolls his eyes .”as in, what kind of ‘special’ day is it today?”

“…it’s not your birthday, is it? xephos says after a slight beat, eyes widening. “oh no, i’m so  _sorry_ , i haven’t-” they helplessly gesture, already worrying over having not prepared a gift because time flies and they’re not so good with things like this-honeydew marches over and shakes his head with an amused, toothy grin.

“wrong! it’s  _your birthday_ , how could you even  _forget_?”

“…it is?” xephos checks and well, what do you know, it really is their birthday. “ah, and so it is.” they give a breathy, relieved sigh but also a little unsettled by honeydew’s behaviour.

“i got something for you.” honeydew carefully puts down the palm-sized package he’d been hiding behind his back, along with an echo device, on top of xephos’ desk. xephos eyes both with a mild sense of trepidation.

honeydew leans over and presses the button on the echo device and oh god, it’s a karaoke version of ‘happy birthday’, honeydew starting to belt out the lyrics at the top of his lungs, so horribly off-key and lagging a few seconds behind the tune but xephos smiles the widest smile they’ve ever smiled, tearing up a little.

“thank you, honeydew,” they say once honeydew’s finished singing.

“bah, don’t you start crying on me,” honeydew mock grumbles and points to the package. “open your present. it’s not a handkerchief, that’s for sure.”

xephos takes scissors to the package; it’s been wrapped with obvious care so they delicately snip all the tape off in all the right places and eventually sheds it of its lovely wrapping paper (a vivid dark blue patterned with swirling galaxies).

they slide the gift out, eyes widening.

“how did-honeydew, what is _this_?” stunned, xephos glances from the box to honeydew.

honeydew shifts on the spot before he guiltily hands over a magazine that they’d given up on finding. the magazine is dog-eared and has been marked in several places with pages folded up in the corner and crumpled like honeydew might have sat on it a few times, but intact.

xephos takes it and places it on the desk, fingers finding the catch to the box and sliding the lid off, carefully extracting the brand-new, state of the art holographic keyboard and letting it sit on their desk.

it consists of a single tiny, elegantly patterned disc (barely the size of their thumbnail). it’s the digistruct module. the back of the box says that it’ll merge with the digistruct module that serves as xephos’ inventory, one of the first of its kind to have a self-contained function that’s accessible from outside of the digistruct system.

that tiny piece of technology is spawning the keyboard that xephos sees.

they keyboard itself is so transparent and sheer that when xephos touches the edge of it, their fingers pass through it. they experimentally tap one of the keys and to their surprise, the key they’d pressed ‘clicks’, effortlessly registering their gentle tap.

their hud pings as the invite to set it up appears (in the span of a millisecond).

xephos experimentally slides their fingers under the keyboard’s edges. to their surprise, it’s now solid and they lift it up; sensing a shift in height, the module raises the keyboard higher to match. a sweeping gesture and the keyboard vanishes, safety tucked away in its module. a second sweeping gesture and it reappears.

lost for words, xephos looks up from it to honeydew, a single tear falling that follows the curve of their cheek. xephos slides out from behind the desk to drop to their knees in front of honeydew to pull him into a tight hug.

“you like your gift?” honeydew asks, patting xephos on the back.

“it’s  _perfect_ ,” xephos breathes, still so overcome with happiness that the tears keep falling for another ten minutes.

to this day, even if xephos could buy a newer model, they still use said keyboard and fully intend to until it’s past its time. 


	10. lomadia

happiness:

> she’d never had time to travel prior to her arrival on pandora. on pandora, she can hit the open road for as long as she wants, aimlessly strike out on her own without a concrete destination in mind.
> 
> her rakk always follows her overhead, gliding on wind currents like a leathery, oversized kite as she drives in an old, almost rusted heap of a technical (but the important part is that it’s still functional) she’d bought for cheap from two scruffy men based out in the dust.
> 
> trainbros. or something like along the lines of that had been their name. she comes back to them every now and again for technical maintenance; the three of them have a mutual understanding of what constitutes as ‘fair pricing’ on pandora.
> 
> it involves ‘don’t rip me off and i won’t bludgeon you to death with the butt of my rifle’. they charge a cheap fee for repairs (that fluctuates based on what they have to do) and she pays whatever they ask for without argument.
> 
> she runs delivery jobs, in her spare time, on top of providing veterinary services while out on the road; people do have pets on pandora. while it’s rare that she encounters someone in need of her expertise, they pay well for her help.
> 
> if her technical gives up the ghost while she’s far from civilization, she doesn’t mind walking, so long as her destination within fair walking distance; she has a stingray but she doesn’t like it. it’s too loud, stirs up too much wind and dust, essentially attracting attention, which is the exact opposite of what she wants.
> 
> it does its job though, in the rare time she’s forced to digistruct it. so she keeps it and pays the upkeep fee for whenever she visits the trainbros. garage.
> 
> lomadia has a base that she comes back to every month, mostly to resupply and check on the wildlife that hangs around said base. they’re wild but appear to have gotten it into her head that she’s one of the rare humans they don’t attack on sight. probably something to do with her rakk being the undisputed boss around these parts.
> 
> usually a week after she’s rested up, the wanderlust itch strikes again and she hits the road once more.
> 
> these days, she’s been hanging around sanctuary hole. she has half a mind to move her base close by, simply because it’s such a convenient location, a hub with many roads leading back to it. the problem is the people. never in the middle of town, though. too many people around her for her to ever feel truly comfortable, compared to the wide open space of the wilderness.
> 
> her rakk has a notorious habit of playfully divebombing people when they least expect it in some sort of sadistic game. once it’d divebombed the new meriff and knocked off his hat; he’d sworn and shaken his fist at her rakk after he’d retrieved his hat. luckily, rakks are local the area, so he hasn’t made the connection between it and her.
> 
> she still wanders, but never far, to keep an eye on nilesy, one of the few friends she’s made shortly after her arrival on pandora; he’s a magnet for trouble and while she knows he’s safe in sanctuary hole, one of these days, something is going to happen.
> 
> she can feel it in her bones and patiently awaits the day.


	11. hybridpanda

happiness:

> the thrill of a chase finally ending, tagging the bounty, handing the bounty over to the law and being fully paid for it. the satisfaction of a challenge being completed is what panda lives for. the thrills are just a nice bonus that came as part of a package.
> 
> panda didn’t just become a mercenary for the fame, wealth, the loot given as rewards or because it runs in their blood, they became a mercenary for the challenge it offers. they could have broken family tradition, become a salaryman but sitting in a office and stagnating is the exact opposite of what panda wants out of life.
> 
> fame, the guns, loot and wealth are nice but it’s the challenge that’s part of the job that panda strives for. they’ve known no other life nor intend to see what else possibly exists; their online presence is as close as they’ll get to living a non-mercenary life.
> 
> the exact number of people on panda’s friendslist who know panda’s irl identity could be counted on less than five fingers.
> 
> panda likes to maintain that divide as much as possible, revealing little of their irl identity, no matter how many people ask or try to pry. it’s sort of necessary, really, to be able to function as a successful mercenary. job security, lowers the risk of being recognised, or having someone interfere while they’re working and all that jazz.
> 
> the downside of becoming a galaxy-famous mercenary and bounty hunter is that there are very few jobs and contracts that offer panda a challenge these days, so panda’s been hanging out online a lot more often; they’ve got enough saved up in their bank account that they can live comfortably without working jobs for the next few months if they so wished.
> 
> panda’s thoughts have been turning to chasing down their greatest challenge yet, a target who’s since continued to elude panda even to this very day, an inner world hitman called teep.
> 
> so panda spends the money that would have gone towards renewing their subscription to their favorite servers on contacting one of their reliable informants in tracking down teep. panda sends a message to saberial informing her of where they’re going, once the necessary information comes in.
> 
> finally, just maybe, this is the challenge of their life. bored with games, bored with jobs, bored with bounties; there’s an old spark that’s flaring into life. and if they die while chasing down that quarry, it’s not a bad way to go out, panda thinks as they start making preparations to leave.
> 
> huh, saberial wants to come along. she doesn’t have anything to gain by following them to pandora, but panda doesn’t mind. she might even prove to be of help. panda jokes that saberial might even find love, earning a laugh from her. 


	12. trottimus

happiness: **  
**

> trottimus’ (secret) guilty pleasure is virtual pets. he’s got enough pets in real life: his three, very needy but extremely useful surveyors. he takes care of them well enough, tunes them up as often as he can, tries to accommodate them despite the obnoxiousness of their ‘bursting into flames at the most inconvenient times, even during tuning’.
> 
> in all seriousness? it’s nice to not worry about such concerns when it comes to his virtual pets.
> 
> even on pandora (set on the very edge of the known universe), the echonet reception is decent enough in that he can check in on his pets (he’s signed up for five different websites by this point) and spend a glorious hour or two just mindlessly clicking away, tending to his beloved sprites, eggs, dragons or whatever creatures he’s taken under his care.
> 
> he’s even written little programs that’ll automatically click away for him if he can’t make it onto the echonet. and no, it’s not _cheating_ if it’s just doing what he’d normally do because nobody would be so mindless as to waste 90/7 of their life clicking away like that…right? or hack so that all the grunt work is done and they’re just. well, cheating, at that point.
> 
> three years ago, he’d have deemed it a pointless waste of time. nowadays, it’s  _cathartic_ , that’s what.
> 
> there’s just something so satisfying about seeing his critters evolve with tender loving care over time under his watchful eye. he hasn’t spent a single dollar either, to advance. he considers it a personal achievement, to have gotten this far without paying for a shortcut. sweat, blood and tears are what he’d paid instead.
> 
> if alsmiffy or ross ask what he’s doing, cooing over a screen, he just tabs out and brings up a picture of his surveyor on his monitor and just like that, alsmiffy and ross have already lost interest.
> 
> trottimus isn’t interested in being made fun of, so he takes extreme care to hide his virtual pets (deletes his browser history, locks his laptop when it’s not in use, the whole shebang).
> 
> that is, until ross borrows his laptop and trottimus has absently replied, “yeah, go ahead-” then realizes with growing horror that there are tabs he’d left open, still logged into the websites, up on the browser. trottimus lunges at the laptop (upturning the toolbox in his lap).
> 
> ross simply lifts it out of his reach, squinting at the screen. trottimus falls onto the floor, tripping over ross’ outstretched leg.
> 
> “what’s this in the tab? echopets?” trottimus dies a thousand deaths on the floor.  “trott, what’re you playing at, logging into my account _-hang on a minute_ , this is  _your_ account!”
> 
> “you play  _echopets_?” trottimus gets to his feet, one of his knees definitely bruised, blinking at ross. he opens his mouth, then shuts it, like a goldfish. he’d expected a scathing remark along the lines of ‘you sad sack of shit, playing echopets at your age’.
> 
> “what about it?”
> 
> ross beams at him. “you should add me so we can trade!”
> 
> “you play echopets.”
> 
> “yeah? alsmiffy makes fun of me, but that’s just him being a twat, as usual. it’s fun! all the sprites are so cute and they don’t punish you for not being able to log in everyday…”
> 
> trottimus takes back everything bad he’s ever thought about ross making fun of him for being into virtual pets. ross hands back his laptop; trottimus is still stunned over this revelation that he mistypes ross’ username three times until ross had to type it in for him and sent off the friend request.
> 
> when alsmiffy walks into the room to ross and trottimus bonding over virtual pets, alsmiffy calls them every variation of ‘nerd’, saw that they didn’t react and proceeded to sulk over being left out until ross had sighed and sent him an invite to the website.
> 
> surprisingly, alsmiffy gets into it and sure enough, the three of them have a little daycare of sorts up and running (profiting off of trott’s breedable rarities and ross’ giant collection of mystery eggs, plus alsmiffy’s knack for negotiating trades).
> 
> alsmiffy affectionately dubs the entire thing ‘pyramid scheme parading around in a child’s onesie’.
> 
> it’s actually not that far from the truth but trottimus lets it slide.

pet peeve:

> trottimus’ pet peeve is dry skin. it hasn’t been a problem since, well, the incident with alsmiffy  (see below, alsmiffy, ‘happiness’) but whenever he has to go anywhere with the other two that involves quite a bit of sun, he usually prefers to stay indoors (or under the shade) and tackle the task from behind the scenes, letting the other two dive straight into the action.
> 
> the most he does is send his surveyors out but if worst comes to worst, he’s their designated back-up. he’s saved the other two’s hides on occasion for when they’d gotten well over their heads; there’s nothing the three of them can conquer, together, and trottimus prefers it that way, for obvious reasons.
> 
> anyways, he takes good care of his skin, uses a cheap but effective moisturizer to keep it from cracking in the most worst, blistering heat, even if it annoys him to have to stop whatever he’s doing to reapply it.
> 
> ever since the incident, he’s noticed that his skin’s tougher (doesn’t bruise, scratch, bleed or sunburn as easily anymore), less likely to dry out and become flaky or slough off in wrinkled sheets.
> 
> there must have been something in those experimental skin grafts that doctor had given him. even alsmiffy and ross (the two generally proving unobservant) have noticed how different his skin’s become.
> 
> ross had run a curious hand over his bare arm, goosebumps rising in the wake of his calloused fingers. “ooohh, trottimus, your skin’s so smooth,” he’d whispered, a little awed at this development. alsmiffy hadn’t said anything but he’d poked and prodded trottimus’ arm, almost worried liked there’d been something lurking underneath.
> 
> he appreciates their concern. alsmiffy had even went out one evening and came back with a brand-new bottle of the moisturiser, the brand that trottimus likes, shoving it at him across the dinner table.
> 
> not that trottimus needs it anymore (hadn’t used it in weeks now), but it’s almost like alsmiffy is trying to apologize…? the gesture is nonetheless, touching. he accepts it in lieu of an apology. 


	13. alsmiffy

happiness: **  
**

> schadenfreude. what a wonderful word. alsmiffy loves it. his favourite victim is trottimus, of course. ross, second, but ross is more liable to hit him once he catches on and alsmiffy  _bruises easily_. trottimus? it’s so easy to push trottimus’ buttons he might as well superglue them to his hand. that’s how easy it is to get a rise out of him.
> 
> the best part is that trottimus generally doesn’t like retaliating, preferring to grit his teeth and bear whatever new form of torture alsmiffy has come up with.
> 
> alsmiffy is always careful to avoid hitting trottimus of course. a little flame here and there, but never enough to singe anything that trottimus deems valuable or precious. he’s not that much of an asshole as to burn trott’s belongings or set anything they might need on fire.
> 
> in a sense, alsmiffy is the most destructive out of the three but not.
> 
> the incident with the toast had been a complete and utter accident and no matter what ross or trottimus says, he had not  _purposefully_  set the toast on fire because that is a waste of food.
> 
> also, asking alsmiffy how he eats and drinks is another sure fire (pun not intended) way to earning a smack to the face from alsmiffy. he eats and drinks like everybody else does: when everyone’s backs are turned.
> 
> one day, he goes too far and.  _thank the stars_  for doctors who don’t condemn con artists for not having cash flowing out of their pockets. while trottimus is recuperating in bed, his every breath sounding like a leaky, rapidly deflating, punctured balloon on its last legs. ross is livid.
> 
> when alsmiffy had tried to explain, “it’d just been a joke, i didn’t mean-”
> 
> ross had only snarled, “don’t _talk_  to me, just don’t say anything!” as his irises turned yellow for a split second, teeth growing sharper until he’d reigned in his temper, both features dulling then.
> 
> alsmiffy actually shuts up and starts to think, the rusted gears of his conscience turning for the first time in a long while. and when trottimus had opened his eyes and asked where alsmiffy had gone, ross had blinked back tears of relief.
> 
> alsmiffy is as docile as a timid lamb in the days that follow, not a single complaint or whine escaping when ross enacts his revenge in saddling him with the grunt work (including both his and trottimus’ chores) they’d missed out on for having to haul trottimus to the hospital.
> 
> ultimately, trottimus is far too forgiving. alsmiffy feels he doesn’t deserve to be forgiven, because even someone like him knows when he’s crossed a line he shouldn’t have, in the first place.
> 
> he’s the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life when trottimus finally calls him over and sighs, “just don’t do it again, being burned alive  _once_  is enough.”

pet peeve:

> he doesn’t like people asking him what he looks like underneath his gas mask of his. there’s nothing wrong with his face (nothing horribly disfigured, no hideous monstrosity underneath masquerading as a human, no large scars anywhere on his face, no plastic surgery gone wrong, so  _fuck off_ ).
> 
> he thinks he’s good-looking enough. if he posted a picture of himself on a dating site, men and women alike would certainly find him attractive enough.
> 
> he’s not worried about being recognized, if the law happened to trace his gas mask alter ego to his real face. he’s going to be pretty annoyed if that happens, though.
> 
> he doesn’t have sensitive skin (though he does hate sunburn with a burning passion). the gas mask does serve nicely in protecting his skin if he just happened to let his flames off a little too close to his own body.
> 
> the real reason he wears the gas mask is because he’s ginger. he has an ocean of freckles to go with it, too. freckles, everywhere. you could draw a bloody star map using his freckles, if you took a marker to him and connected them all up.
> 
> theoretically, he could change his appearance using the quick change station, but it’s too much of a hassle. he could never decide on an alternate look; he’s sunk in more than sixteen hours online playing around on anshin’s website to try to come up with a more appealing look for himself.
> 
> and he can’t do it. it _infuriates_ him, more so than people asking ‘to take that mask off so we can have a right gander, come on, we’ve got ten bucks you’ve got a robot face under there’. he’d left them in a dumpster with a face only their mother could love.
> 
> so when he takes off the mask in front of ross and trottimus (to deal with a head wound that’d split his mask and scraped his forehead open), ross and trottimus stare for a good thirty seconds.
> 
> “what, were you expecting something else?” alsmiffy had growled, a warning of sorts. “some sort of deformed _freak_? a pretty  _boy_?”
> 
> “nah, that’s just a pretty bad head wound.” trottimus directs his surveyor over so that it can do its job. alsmiffy is surprised, now struck silent by the lack of a reaction.
> 
> “you’re not bad looking,” ross adds, shrugging.
> 
> really, he’d expected them to have a betting pool of sorts running so that he could cash in on their guilt. bit anticlimactic, really.


	14. djh3max

happiness: **  
**

> when trottimus and alsmiffy are snoring away in their shared bed, ross shakes them both off him. they stir, lightly but are far too deep in sleep to realize he’s sneaking out.
> 
> once he’s out of the bed, the first thing he does is strip and fold up his suit; he doesn’t need clothes, not where he’s going. the other two had been tired enough to not notice he hadn’t changed out of his suit before instantly falling asleep the moment their heads hit the pillow.
> 
> theoretically, he could keep the suit on since it’s specially tailored, the fabric shifting to match his changing form. it’d cost a fortune to tailor but it’s nice sometimes, to not be buck naked and arrested for public indecency whenever he shifted back from his other form. he doesn’t want his suit to be ruined on his late night outings (a real right bitch to dry clean).
> 
> he tucks his suit into his digistruct modules, leaving them behind (no room for them either).
> 
> ross  opens the door and slips out, closing it behind him and transforms under the light of elpis, dropping down into a crouch and sniffing the air.
> 
> his world is different when he’s in his other form. it’s never completely dark on Pandora due to Elpis reflecting the light of the distant star serving as their sun overhead. he’s at his happiest when he’s roaming the night, exploring a world that’s exclusively his for the next ten hours.
> 
> nothing bothers him so long as he doesn’t smell like a human; he rolls around in the dirt until his human scent is masked and he stinks to high heaven of things his human nose couldn’t have picked up but it’s nothing a half an hour shower can’t take care of.
> 
> he lopes across the desert on all fours, tail wagging the entire time. it’s cold out (minus something degrees celsius), but he has layers of fur that insulates him, keeping him alive where a human would have likely dropped to the ground, shivering, until their body simply ceased to function as they froze to death.
> 
> it’s a good thing that he’d eaten more than enough dinner to keep him from shifting back due to running low on energy.
> 
> ross is shameless when he’s in this form. he eats things he shouldn’t, taking adventurous bites out of a tantalizing skag-shaped carcass by the road; his stomach can munch on things that his human one wouldn’t have been capable of.
> 
> marks his territory (like there’s any other werewolves around to know he’d been there, heh) by pissing on a rocky outcropping, chases skags for fun. the skags think it’s a game, nipping playfully at his tail whenever they chase him in turn since they think he’s one of their own, if oddly shaped and with so much more hair.
> 
> ross howls at rakks until they divebomb him, one dipping past low enough so that he can grab one in his jaws and eat it as a rather chewy, bony snack. crunchy and not all that bad tasting.
> 
> the nice thing about having a werewolf stomach is that he metabolized whatever he ate fast. so there’s no danger of anything left in his stomach accidentally doing internal damage if he had to abruptly change back.
> 
> when the sun starts its slow climb into the sky, ross meanders back to the place where trottimus and alsmiffy sleep, transforms outside the door, walks into the bathroom buck naked (it's’ not like they’re awake to stare or _wolf-whistle_ ).
> 
> he showers, taking his sweet time to make sure all evidence of his outing’s been washed off before climbing back into bed. dressed of course, in sleep wear.
> 
> they’re always puzzled by the strange tracks left outside the building and ross smelling like wet dog somehow and still passed out in bed, get up you lazy  _prick_.
> 
> “urgh, ross, you sweat too much in your sleep,” trottimus gripes and climbed out of bed to escape the smell. alsmiffy follows him soon after, leaving ross the luxury of having a bed all to himself and sleeping in until mid-morning.

pet peeve:

> being fed chocolate. chocolate of any kind (dog or human), when he’s transformed. his mind and stomach shout no’, but his nose screams ‘yes’ and before he can clamp down on the impulse, he’s already wolfed down the offered chocolate bar in alsmiffy’s hand.
> 
> Ross licks his chops after, only to mentally scream ‘FUCK’.
> 
> alsmiffy cruelly laughs but that laughter soon turns into utter disgust; ross had licked his hand to get at the chocolate. he wipes his gloved hand onto trottimus’ lab coat, further spreading the disgust to him.
> 
> chocolate is one of the things his wolf stomach  _hates_. it’s not exactly toxic so he won’t die from it. but it’s enough to give him a stomachache and indigestion for the next three hours, curled up in bed, unable to throw up since his stomach is slowly but surely, breaking the stuff down. it’s sure taking it’s sweet time in doing so, though.
> 
> it doesn’t matter if he’s human or not by then. for the next three hours, he has to endure a personal hell where his stomach churns non-stop, reduced to whimpering every now and then because it just  _hurts so badly_  that he’s so tempted to extend out a sharp claw, poke a hole in himself and remove his own-okay, even he won’t be able to recover from a wound like that. but it’s  _tempting_.
> 
> the point is, eating chocolate while he’s transformed is an incredibly bad idea but to alsmiffy and trottimus, they seem to think it’s a right riot. they seem to regret it though, once he’s in pain.
> 
> alsmiffy had called a veterinarian and the vet had been deeply shocked; what kind of imbecile would willingly give their dog  _chocolate_? alsmiffy had hung up in shame and embarrassment.
> 
> trottimus had combed the echonet for hours, searching for answers. the echonet hadn’t provided anything that ross hadn’t tried before, so the only solution left had been to wait it out.
> 
> ross did get better eventually but he’d been exceedingly bad-tempered and wary about accepting any food from the other two for about two weeks. then he’d gotten sick of his own cooking and just like that, things are back to normal.
> 
> until the next time alsmiffy pulls the same prank again and ross decides he’s going to throw up on him as a werewolf and werewolf puke is especially  _nasty_  and hard to get out of a suit.
> 
> long story short, ross has a love-hate relationship with chocolate. doesn’t mind the occasional chocolate bar so long as he knows he doesn’t have to transform until it’s all digested, hates eating it when he’s transformed. 


	15. lalnable hector

a nervous tic or habit they do

> Parvis watches Lalnable. Alright, that sounds creepy. Fine, he watches Lalnable _sometimes_  when Lalnable’s far too occupied with paperwork. He carries around a plastic clipboard with him everywhere.
> 
> It’s one of the ones with a bulldog clip screwed on at the top that’s a tad off-kilter because Parvis had dropped it once when bringing it over and Lalnable has never let him forget it.
> 
> He also carries around with him an endless supply of ballpoint pens, the cheap kind sold in packs of fifty. One could last for months before it kicked the bucket. Lost one? No problem, just pull out another. Ink run out? Grab another. Want to use one as a stabbing tool? Easy, just-no, he’s kidding, as if anybody could use a pen as a weapon.
> 
> Parvis has only recently noticed that Lalnable clicks the pen he’d holding whenever he’s thinking.
> 
> Click, click, click, click, click goes the pen in the background. He can almost see the gears turn in Lalnable’s head the moment the sound fills the room.
> 
> Now, Parvis has a lot of patience (it comes with the role and territory his gang occupies, see) but it can only stretch so far before he snaps. It does not extend to being exposed to repetitive bouts of pen clicking that’s slowly driving him up the wall and over the ceiling because  _Lalnable has to fidget with a pen when he thinks_.
> 
> He breathes out, telling himself that Lalnable will stop soon.
> 
> Click, click, click, click, click, click.
> 
> “Lalnable, stop clicking the pen!” Parvis screams. Lalnable stares at him, his thumb arrested in mid-air, about to complete the dreaded motion. A blond eyebrow rises. The muscles on Lalnable’s hand twitch as a small smirk appears on his face-”No!”
> 
> Click.
> 
> Snarling, Parvis throws the box of gloves he’s holding aside and dives at him. Lalnable doesn’t quite move out of the way in time so he and Parvis go down together. The clipboard skitters off into parts unknown (coming to a rest under one of the metal tables).
> 
> Lalnable is miraculously still holding onto the pen. Parvis tries to snatch it off him, using his longer reach to his advantage-a knee swiftly collides with his nether regions. Parvis falls onto his side, tears welling up in his eyes as his hands fly straight to his ‘injury’.
> 
> Satisfied, Lalnable gets to his feet. He shakes his head upon seeing Parvis curled up on the floor with an expression of utmost agony.
> 
> “Get your own pen,” Lalnable says with a derisive snort, pocketing the offending pen.

describe how they show affection.

> Lalna goes for check-ups at his twin’s clinic. It’s not strange to have his twin listed as his doctor but Lalnable’s prickliness has yet to fade whenever they see each other.
> 
> Lalnable’s never been the jolly, affectionate type (he’s only happy when he’s causing schadenfreude or building a prosthetic, actually) so Lalna doesn’t expect much in the way of him ever being less of a dick than he usually is.
> 
> Still, he talks about whatever pops into his head so that silence doesn’t get the chance to spring up and make the checkups more torturous. Lalnable never exactly looks like he’s enjoying the nonstop chatter but he does respond to some of the things he says so Lalna takes it as an encouraging sign.
> 
> Yes, even if Lalnable has to make snippy comments and he’s relentlessly bringing up the idea of Lalna dragging Rythian and co. in for a checkup as well. He probably does the latter out of concern. The former is just him being a dick.
> 
> Growing up, Lalnable’s never been the kind of person to really demand hugs or cling to anything in comparison to Lalna who’d practically changed toys with every year and demanded his parents to hold his hand when crossing the road or when wheedling a longer hug out of them.
> 
> He can’t remember the last time Lalnable’s ever hugged him of his own free will, come to think of it.
> 
> Lalnable tells him that he has a clean bill of health (sounding surprised about it too) and dismisses him. Lalna is about to slide off the bench when a jar stuffed full of lollipops is thrust under his nose.
> 
> “What’s this?” Lalna eyes the glass jar with suspicion, his gaze sliding from it to Lalnable.
> 
> Lalnable purses his lips before speaking. “Take one.”
> 
> “You’ve never offered lollipops before,” Lalna observes, the fingers of his hand twitching because this is new.
> 
> “They came with a thing I ordered. I don’t eat them and I need to get rid of them before Parvis gets a cavity,” Lalnable grumbles. Almost on cue, Parvis ambles past by with sure enough, a white stick poking out of the corner of his mouth.
> 
> “They’re tasty!” Parvis pauses in the doorway long enough to chirp as much (with a full mouth so his words come out skewed). He flees before Lalnable can tell him off.
> 
> Well, Lalna’s never been one to turn down a free sweet so he sticks his hand in the jar, going straight for a red one.
> 
> “Can I have two?” Lalna asks, looking hopeful while his hand is in the jar. Lalnable scowls.
> 
> “You may only have one. You’re not the only patient I have with a sweet tooth.” That’s a lie but Lalna doesn’t need to know that.
> 
> Lalna leaves the clinic intending on saving the lollipop for later (as a memento) but he worries that it’ll melt while it’s in his pocket and what the hell, it’s been years since he last had one.
> 
> It tastes of raspberries, sugary sweet and his tastebuds do a little jig of pleasure, it tastes so good. He rolls it around in his mouth as he drives back, trying to savor the taste (up until he comes back for another checkup).
> 
> Nanosounds and Will demand to know where he got the lollipop from. Lalna is only too happy to point them in the direction of Lalnable’s clinic, much to their incredulity.

what is one of their favorite items?

> if you haven’t read the ‘btb’ fic ‘how to influence bandits and befriend them’, you are missing out! the cloth patch that parvis gave lalnable is currently one of lalnable’s fav items.
> 
> he carries the blasted thing everywhere in his inventory. parvis still doesn’t know how he received the item and is sad lalnable hasn’t said a single word about it but he knows lalnable hasn’t thrown it out yet.


	16. zylus (part two)

a nervous tic or habit they do

> he tends to rub at his left eye when he’s thinking or when he’s tired. he’s had that habit ever since he got his right eye replaced. he used to rub his right eye but he switched to his other one so he won’t dislodge his monocle.

describe their usual smile

> have you seen this nerd ever truly smile? check out the april’s fools comic for what a genuine smile from zylus looks like. his usual smiles are tinged with shyness; he’s far too self conscious of his own looks to appear confident in comparison to other people who have tons more confidence than he ever will.
> 
> a smile from him rarely reaches his eyes but when it does, he practically lights up. you’ll know it when you see it. otherwise, there’s something missing from it. happiness is not a word he’s familiar with since it’s absent from his expression. he smiles not just for the sake of smiling but to blend in (let them think he has nothing to hide, because the truths he buries deep inside of him are so much more worse than everyone thinks).

do they look up or down while thinking?

> zylus looks down when he thinks. for someone who’s spent a fair portion of his life with his feet never touching solid ground, zylus tends to fixate on it as a grounding thing (pun not intended).

describe their usual sleeping position

> It doesn’t matter how many times Daltos shoves Zylus all the way to the other side of the bed in the middle of the night, Zylus will inevitably be wrapped around him come morning. It’s _infuriating_. He knows Zylus doesn’t do it on purpose (or else he’d have set him straight a long time ago) but holy fucking shit, the amount of times he’s woken up to being cuddled does  _not_ sit well with him.
> 
> It’s like Zylus doesn’t understand the meaning of personal space. To be fair, he is fast asleep whenever Daltos randomly wakes up.
> 
> The thing is, Daltos is a notoriously a light sleeper, conditioned by years of people trying to murder him when they think he’s most vulnerable. He’d woken up to a potential ambush simply because one of his traitors had sneezed outside his door. Now, the weird part is, Zylus manages to always get an arm around him without  _waking him up_. That in itself is  _something_. It’s almost laughable how a sleeping Zylus is stealthier than the most determined traitors.
> 
> He regards a sleeping Zylus with half-hearted contempt, sleep eroding the full brunt of it. One of his arms is thrown over Daltos’ middle; the other is tucked underneath his head. Sometimes their legs end up tangled together. That’s another reason why he hates being cuddled; he spends half a minute getting out of the mess of limbs and by then, he’s wide awake while Zylus is still in dreamland, none the wiser.
> 
> If he pushes Zylus away, Zylus twitches and mumbles, sometimes reaching for him if he hasn’t drawn away in time, seeking warmth; Zylus makes faces in his sleep, most of them unhappy until he gets close enough to almost bury his face in the space between Daltos’ neck and shoulder. He’s only content once he’s settled again by clinging onto him.
> 
> The pillow Daltos tries to substitute is ignored, indicating that Zylus has some sort of homing instinct for a warm body.
> 
> At this point, it’s easier to accept his fate rather than struggle in vain against the inevitable. He just goes back to sleep, fuck Zylus; Zylus is always clear of him when he’s actually awake which is in stark contrast to his sleeping self’s behaviour.

describe something they like without naming it

> The first time they meet, the first thing Zylus notices about them is the self-possessed air to their posture. They’re both the same height (but Zylus does not doubt that one of them will end up gaining height, since exiting adolescence is full of last minute surprises like that).
> 
> The captain’s uniform conceals a surprising leanness that Zylus will later find out about but for now, the brand new uniform fits them like a tailor made glove.
> 
> The captain making the introductions happily babbles about ‘finally filling in that vacancy’, ‘request for transfer successful’ and a whole bunch of other things that Zylus doesn’t quite process. He’s only had three hours of sleep and his brain is beginning to turn into mush. It takes almost of his willpower not to fall asleep standing on his feet.
> 
> He continues taking in the new captain’s features. Short, black hair that’s messy enough so that it’s just within standard regulations. The two silver bars above their left eyebrow shine under the fluorescent lighting of the bridge.
> 
> Sharp jaw, clean-shaven. It pleases Zylus that there’s someone else around here who takes care in their personal appearance. They seem about the same age as he is (he’ll have to sneak a look at their file to really know and so will the other captains, contrary to what they claimed).
> 
> That said, he’s not a sucker for a pretty face but he’s inclined to agree with the approving glances the bridge crew members are shooting their way.
> 
> Huh, they also have dark brown eyes, a common enough sight around here. There’s an intelligent alertness to the new captain’s gaze when they look around the bridge past Zylus, perhaps cataloging where everything is for future reference. Some of the bridge crew members hastily turn back to their stations when their gaze drifts over them.
> 
> Their gaze lands on him. They seem bored enough, judging by their expression of polite interest. However, Zylus recognises the look of someone who’d rather not stick around any longer than they have to.
> 
> “I think Zylus would like to give me a tour of the frigate,” They say, speaking for the first time. Their voice is slightly deeper than Zylus had assumed, a trace of an accent he’s unfamiliar with lending the barest hint of a bored drawl. He’ll have to look up their homeworld as well to place it.
> 
> It’s kind of nice, their voice. He could definitely fall asleep listening to it-no, he can’t fall asleep here. With an effort, he focuses on the pain from biting the inside of his cheek to try to stay awake.
> 
> Their tone carries enough weight behind it that the other captain stops mid-spiel (right in the middle of talking about shifts; fuck them and the others because Zylus has been stuck with the shit ones and he hopes the new captain will relieve him of some of them or do something because he’s not sure if he can take another week of sleep deprivation).
> 
> Zylus blinks. The other captain must have introduced them during their eager rambling but Zylus doesn’t remember shaking anyone’s hand or catching a name being dropped. The new captain is looking expectantly at Zylus. The other captain splutters and says something about deciding shifts now but Zylus grins.
> 
> His conspirator smirks. Something inside Zylus sits up and pays attention because that is the smirk of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing and couldn’t give a fuck about the potential consequences (like already aggravating the other captains less than a week of their arrival).
> 
> “Sure, I can do that. Right this way,” Zylus cheerfully says, leading them out of the bridge (disappointing the bridge crew and irritating the other captain). He can’t help but yawn as they walk. “Sorry, I’m tired,” He sheepishly explains. “I got saddled with the worst shifts, despite transferring here two months before you.”
> 
> The new captain gives an understanding nod. Zylus has the impression that they don’t talk much.
> 
> Zylus gives the fastest frigate tour of his entire military career, barely stopping to let them take in the details of each necessary location before taking them to the next one. By the end of it, Zylus can barely keep his eyes open.
> 
> “I think you should go sleep,” They carefully suggest as he ends the tour right outside of the captains’ quarters.
> 
> “I’m not-” Zylus had been about to say ‘not tired’ but he realizes that they’re sparing him the embarrassment of having to excuse himself. “You know what, that’s an excellent idea,” He concedes, unable to help sounding grateful.
> 
> “It was nice to meet you, Zylus.” They extend a hand to Zylus. Zylus takes it and gives a cursory handshake; their hand is rough and warm, their grip firm. He lets go and mentally notes to later buy them a drink or something as thanks (trying hard not to think about nice their hand had felt).
> 
> “Nice to meet you too. I’ll hopefully see you around,” He says before walking over to the locked door to his room. Fuck, he hadn’t caught their name and it’s too late to ask. He can ask the bridge crew later.
> 
> He punches in the code, the door sliding open to admit him. He steps through and it quietly slides shut behind him. Now alone, he lets out a giant sigh of relief. At the very least, he remembers to change out of his uniform instead of passing out in it.
> 
> If there’s one thing he hates, it’s having to wear a wrinkled uniform. The moment he’s comfortable in his bed, sleep is upon him before he can count down from 'ten’.
> 
> With an unreadable expression, the new captain contemplates Zylus’ door for a few moments. They eventually turn to head off in the direction of the bridge; there’s the matter of rearranging shifts they’d like to discuss with the other captains.

what’s their posture like in a normal situation?

> zylus has a ruler straight back when he’s standing and that’s the way it’s always been. he’d get told off by his mother for slouching as a kid (you’ll get a bad back and you don’t want to hunch like your grandparent and etc.). he feels bad for slouching (even in a chair) since that reminder ends up nipping at him. it also helps hide how naturally inclined he feels to try to make himself small, given his issues.

describe their hands

> when zylus looks at his hands, he sees chipped, square nails with slivers of dust caught under them that he can never get out, the pads of his fingers worn down from work and remains of scarring here and there from all the nicks and near-misses over the long years. he keeps his nails short out of habit because there’s no sense in losing the whole thing if he snags or breaks it in half on anything.
> 
> he has long fingers (thanks mom) and a wide palm (thanks dad). he doesn’t think he has large hands but when he’d picked up nanosounds’ hand to check, her palm could barely fit in his own. he supposes it comes down to a matter of perspective.
> 
> his hands are always dry from long hours of work, a bit of grease and oil staining them after a session in the garage. it’s a miracle how his hands haven’t been permanently coloured by now but zylus takes good care of his hands; he can’t imagine losing one let alone both of them.
> 
> he thinks of Lalna and shudders. one dead eye is enough.

write a quote they would find themselves saying

> “Daltos, I did  _not_  walk into a Loader because I was too busy staring at you!” - Zylus to Lalnable post ‘this town ain’t big enough for the two of us’. Lalnable is extremely skeptical, given the nature of his and Daltos’ injuries.

how would their hair gray? or would they lose their hair first?

> Considering Zylus’ family history, everybody on both sides of his family goes grey past forty; the grey seeps in until there’s hardly anything left of the original brown. While he’s not worried about losing hair or going grey while young, he is however, more bothered by the fact that he ends up with the beginnings of a beard every week or so.
> 
> It’s very possible that the genes for not having grey hair and protecting him against premature hair loss result in plentiful beards less than a week after he’s just  _shaved_. He’s no geneticist but it’s kind of ridiculous, no matter how people say how lucky he is.
> 
> He should just grow out the thing and not bother with the woes of shaving at all. While he’s never let it grow out past stubble beginning to curl, the mental image of a full beard that spawns makes him cringe.
> 
> He’s only twenty nine, after all and he gets no ego boost from trying to pass off as looking far older than he actually is. Also, it really makes look like a hermit.
> 
> Zylus looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, sighs for the thousandth time and gets to work. His hand follows the round curves of his face, the lines of roughness and bristled hair giving way under the metal as he drags the razor over. He is careful not to nick himself because it always stings when coupled with the aftershave and the splash of cold water.
> 
> It’s also time consuming, taking up a single slot of his morning routine. In a way, it’s soothing, the motions.
> 
> He’s not letting himself go, not forgetting to take care of himself, actually doing something, even if that something is as simple as shaving.
> 
> There’s a few conspicuously blank periods in his tattered patchwork of a memory where he suspects he’s done the exact opposite, letting his grief and loneliness drag him under for days at a time, confined to his bed, ignoring his own needs.
> 
> While it hurts to get up to attend to a town where he’s the only resident, it hurts even more to be reminded of that fact day in and day out.
> 
> He cries to the point of exhaustion because it’s all he can do. He knows it’s stupid to be languishing away like this when there are things to be done and he’s the only one who can do them.
> 
> All it’ll take is just one ECHO call to Ravs or someone, his device is sitting right  _there_ on the table in arm’s reach and yet, he is so scared of how he’ll look to any visitor because if he can’t look his reflection in the eye, how can he bring himself to do that to any other being?
> 
> His misery might as well be a gaping, raw wound in his chest laid bare for all to see.
> 
> He can never bring himself to ignore Bebop, though. He wakes to a surveyor floating above him. BebopVox isn’t allowed indoors but. This is an exception.
> 
> The surveyor’s blue eye whirs as it swings over him, taking in his inert state.
> 
> > Zylus?
> 
> > You’ve been inside for two days now.
> 
> _Two days_. it’d only felt like a lifetime to him. his heart sinks. Unable to bear the shame (even when he knows BebopVox isn’t judging him, it feels like they are), he curls up, burrowing into his bed with the pillow hiding his face and unkempt appearance. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he can smother himself into normalcy.
> 
> > You need to eat and drink.
> 
> _And shower, plus shave_ , are the other silent but firm implications threaded in that one sentence. the surveyor bobs closer, one wing finding its way under his hand. His fingers touch dusty metal warm from the surveyor’s engines. His palm is lifted and gently set aside. The surveyor flips the pillow off him with a deft sideways roll.
> 
> It says a lot about how bad it is when he doesn’t even have the energy (or the heart) to bat Bebop away.
> 
> Their blue eye peers into his own dull, brown ones. He is flung backwards into time by the color.
> 
> He remembers nothing but fine grains of sand cushioning his fall and bebop desperately pleading for him to get up,  _move_ , don’t do this, but it’s over, he is so  _tired_ , he’s finished, he’s done with living, he is not  _sorry_  before the sound of a technical had pulled up on the road next to him and out climbed- _never again_ , he’d sworn.
> 
> Zylus blinks and lifts his head, groggy from a brief sleep he doesn’t remember falling into.
> 
> “Bebop?” He rasps. God, how wrecked his voice sounds, that’s what dehydration and disuse does, wearing his voice down to a rough whisper that lodges in his throat like a stubborn splinter of wood catching under a bloody thumbnail.
> 
> > Yes, it’s me.
> 
> > Can you get up?
> 
> Not wanting to risk speaking, he just nods. Getting out of bed takes him longer than he likes. He is so sore all over that when he tries to stand, he has to fall back and rest a moment before trying again.
> 
> Panic blooms when he can’t find  _anything_ ; where are his digistruct modules, his monocle, his jacket-BebopVox patiently leads him over to each one, hovering over each of the items scattered around the room.
> 
> He gathers up everything he needs and with the surveyor by his side, he stumbles down the hall to the bathroom. He dumps the modules on the counter and steeling himself once he’s by the sink, lifts his head.
> 
> He can’t help but let out sharp sound at how miserable he looks in the mirror. Dark circles are under his eyes in clear defiance of all the hours he’s slept away, his hair is sticking up this way and that. There’s a haunted and stricken look to his features like he’s just been to a funeral (haha, his own, his cynicism points out, oh, just  _fuck off_ )-he tears his gaze away, shame stirring in his gut, thick and cloying like day old porridge.
> 
> BebopVox leaves him to flit down the hall in search of something that they can bring him to drink. It would be far easier if they had a better body that could fit indoors. What would be even better would be having another human around, one who’d understand their plight, just what they’re dealing with because Bebop knows they’re not enough to keep Zylus away from the abyss let alone continuing to bring him back, coughing and almost drowned, from its depths.
> 
> Zylus looks at himself again and yes, the shame is there but. He’s okay, admittedly not in the best of shape but he’s alive and that’s what matters. according to BebopVox, at any rate.
> 
> He reaches for the razor resting on the shelf and gets to work.

describe how they show affection.

> unless one knows zylus extraordinarily well, it’s pretty hard to tell when he’s actually showing affection outside of being his usual, ‘doesn’t lack a mean bone in his body unless you’re on his shit list’ self. let’s give this a shot anyway.
> 
> It always starts with the smallest of deeds.
> 
> It doesn’t take much for Zylus to like someone (‘like’ being of the platonic kind, he’s had enough of any other kind of affection) and to want to provide for them. He can trace it back to following his mother on her hospital rounds as a small child, barely old enough to walk on his own two feet. He’d grown up practically inheriting that tendency from her, ingrained into his very being by the time he’d turned ten.
> 
> Funny, she’d have retired from being a nurse by now, but not without fighting it tooth and nail first. That’s if she hasn’t died yet. The very thought makes his stomach twist in on itself. Starting a private investigation to find out takes money and resources he simply just doesn’t have, on top of being stranded on pandora.
> 
> Back when he’d first moved into T-Bone Junction, the residents had given him only a day to settle in before descending on him with all sorts of questions and supplies. It’d been something of a minor shock to find out that there’s decent folk on Pandora who didn’t mind having a former Dahl soldier living amongst them. They hadn’t stared at the scar gracing his right eye. And if they had, they’d averted their gazes with utter determination a second later.
> 
> In fact, they seemed to see his moving into their town as a point of pride.
> 
> “No more bandits wrecking up our town, that’s for sure!” The old man who ran the optometrist place had boasted, giving Zylus a toothless smile after. Zylus had flushed and hid it under the pretense of ducking out of the town hall for some fresh air.
> 
> It’d probably been his uniform that did it, earning their admiration; a few of the townsfolk had certainly hinted as much but Zylus felt that he’s no way ready for another relationship (given how his last one had ended up, the effects of which he’s still feeling). He doesn’t want to wear his combat Dahl uniform (still in mint condition) which is occupying a space in his miscellaneous inventory. He’s not a mercenary or has any intention of looking like one.
> 
> He’d snuck out of town in a technical late one evening, rationalizing that the sooner he gets rid of those bandits, the sooner he can live a quiet life. When he gets back, the entire town is waiting for him.
> 
> Honestly, he’d thought they’d been ready to throw him out of town for starting shit with their neighbors. Instead, they’d patched him up, fed him and fixed up his suit. He’d declined their thanks, firmly insisting that ‘it’s the least he could do’. The money, he reluctantly takes.
> 
> Half a day later, he runs into the general store lady complaining about how they’re nearing the time when their town is going to get bombed.
> 
> Overhearing it, BebopVox feeds him the idea of setting up a shield and defence system. Zylus mulls over it and promptly goes around town making measurements and taking stock of what the town already has that he can use; the junk dealer is all too happy to help him (babbling something about too much stock), plus the rest of the town to donate whatever he needs.
> 
> He borrows the mechanic’s workshop and tools to put together a rudimentary turret and tests it out on the rakks overhead. He makes a few more and before he knows it, he has about ten of the damn things ready to be rigged up around town.
> 
> When the smoking Buzzards plummet from the sky (amidst much cheering and another party; T-Bone Junction really liked parties), BebopVox informs him that there are reinforcements that won’t take kindly to their friends being shot down.
> 
> Zylus sets about acquiring a power core and the components to make a shield next. Time is working against him but he hits the jackpot on a random junkyard (the last on his list). He tows everything back to town (on top of several dusty monitors, plus assorted computer equipment; he has a vague idea of how he can hide BebopVox in the town; there’s an old unused building out on the edge that he plans on converting into his friend’s new home).
> 
> The bombs simply collide with the shield and leave nary a scratch on the town. The old man beckons to him while everybody else is busy cowering or marveling at how the shield is holding up.
> 
> “I’ve penciled an appointment for you in my shop, so don’t even think of skipping out. I know where you live,” He’d said, leaving no room for Zylus to argue. Later, Zylus slides the gifted monocle on and is startled by how much the world comes into focus.
> 
> The rest of his life falls into place after that.
> 
> If anybody ever needs an odd job done, they come to him. It’s rare when they leave unsatisfied. One young man had joked as much with a wink and a knowing grin that left Zylus covering his face with his hands, not trusting himself to respond aside from mumbling ‘have a good day’; the nostalgia that’d welled up takes more convincing to leave.
> 
> He trades with the townsfolk; the town itself is pretty isolated, in a midst of a desert where anybody visiting is gawked at or gossiped out. Barter and money are both used in this town and he finds that he quite likes the system. He trades books for books, tools for favors and etc. He lives on the ground floor of a building nobody else uses, slowly setting up his home in refurbishing second-hand furniture.
> 
> Zylus had slept on the floor for about a week straight (far too used to rougher ground leaving him stiff and cranky all over) until someone had dumped a cot on his doorstep. The note tacked to it had said ‘not using this, take it’. Other than playing homemaker and repairing his new ship, Zylus doesn’t have much to occupy himself with.
> 
> Not knowing what else to do with so much free time on his hands, he signs up for kitchen duty. His first meal is a resounding success and slightly more people turn up to the nights when he’s making something. He dares to experiment but only in the privacy of his own home (if it can even be called that; he pays cheap rent, considering that the landlord has something of a small crush on him).
> 
> He cooks for the old man sometimes when the old man’s arthritis gets in the way of him being able to hobble over for some free grub. It hurts Zylus when he’s cooking for just two people but he grits his teeth and soldiers on through the memories even as he internally bleeds bitterness fueled by a rage that’s not quite cooled off.
> 
> One day, the old man asks if he always cooks this intensely and Zylus blinks, then laughs, smiling wistfully after. He relaxes when he cooks in the following weeks as the wound scabs shut.
> 
> Years later, the plague creeps into town. He’s one of the first already on their feet and doing what they can to help the sick.
> 
> Their supply of medicines have hit an all-time critical low. Hyperion has failed to deliver for the fifth consecutive week, leaving their pharmacy scrambling to provide what they can but it’s not enough; never had been. Zylus volunteers to leave town, gambling that he’ll be back before the plague worsens, his resolve steeled by the old man’s death.
> 
> He throws the die but can’t bear to see what comes up when it lands. Not that it’d have mattered because no matter how fast he drives, the outcome is always the same.

what is one of their favorite items?

> he’s had his jacket for a long time now and not once, has he ever switched it out, ever since he got promoted. it’s been through all manner of abuse with him. it’s a dark brown, one of dahl’s favourite trademark colours, with gold trim and thread standing out on it.
> 
> given dahl’s practicality, the formal jacket is just as good as a common soldier’s one (which is handy because if the frigate is  _cold_ , pandora’s nights are even  _colder_ ).
> 
> it also doesn’t absorb moisture that easily and it sounds gross but zylus doesn’t quite need to throw it in the wash that often as a result (his shirts are a different story, unfortunately). he can wear the jacket in summer too; teep taught him how to mod his shield so that he’s always cool. funnily enough, wearing his full uniform used to earn him strange looks as he went about town in the heat of the daytime sun.
> 
> he only ever takes off his jacket to throw it into the washing machine with the rest of his laundry, or when he’s about to sleep or shower.
> 
> long story short, the jacket goes where he goes.


	17. daltos (part two)

how would their hair gray? or would they lose their hair first?

> There’s a trick that Daltos likes to pull when he suspects someone isn’t paying attention to him. He tells them the most asinine, trivial facts he knows and then asks if the person can repeat them back to him. It works like a  _charm_.
> 
> So when Ravs looks like he’s not paying attention, Daltos makes the mistake of telling him, “You know my hair color isn’t really black, right?”
> 
> Ravs turns his head sharply, a wide grin on his face. “What was that?”
> 
> “Forget I said anything,” Daltos calmly tells him, moving to leave because he’s never told anybody that before and fuck Ravs if he decides to make a big deal out if it.
> 
> Ravs (in his usual fashion of proving him utterly wrong) grabs him by the wrist and pulls him back, smoothly pinning him to the couch. It’s pointless to struggle because while he’s strong, Ravs is stronger. Because Ravs is also a dick, he leans in close, his grin having grown mischievous.
> 
> “Do my ears deceive me? You  _dye_  your hair?” His breath tickles against his neck.
> 
> Daltos chooses to say nothing, glaring at him.
> 
> “It doesn’t look like you dye it,” Ravs observes, clearly relishing the struggle Daltos is putting up in trying to yank out of his grip. Any other time, Daltos would have been up for this but he’s not in the mood.
> 
> His wrists are being held above his head to the mattress by one of Ravs’ hands. Ravs’ other hand is braced by his side. If Ravs really wanted to be serious, he’d put his entire body weight behind the pin. But he’s not being serious.
> 
> He’d made the mistake of not restraining Daltos’ legs. One of his knees come up to slam into Ravs’ chest, right into his ribs.
> 
> Ravs instantly lets go of him to rub at his sore sternum. Daltos sits up, shaking out his wrists out as Ravs peers at him, still grinning and unfazed by being hit.
> 
> “Okay, so maybe you do dye your hair-”
> 
> “Quick Change Station,” Daltos interrupts him, standing up. The floorboards creak as Ravs joins him. “Ever heard of it?”
> 
> “Yeah, what kind of idiot do you take me for?” Ravs hastily adds when seeing Daltos smirk, “Don’t answer that. You know, now I really want to see you with your original hair color.”
> 
> “It’s nothing special,” Daltos warns. “You’re in for a disappointment.”
> 
> “Still,” Ravs insists. He genuinely looks curious. Fuck, Daltos should have kept his mouth shut. “I’ll just keep asking until you cave,” He points out.
> 
> “Fine, I’ll show you before I leave.” Daltos grabs his jacket and modules from the chair he’d left them on as Ravs goes ahead to open the door.
> 
> They leave his apartment, taking the stairs down. It’s not far to the dilapidated waterfront where the Quick Change Station is located. Ravs spends the time humming, easily keeping up with Daltos’ brisk pace.
> 
> Daltos accesses the menu in the Quick Change Station and picks the option of undoing all changes. People used the machine to hide scars and parts of themselves but Daltos has never seen any need to hide all his scars or flaws. Plus, there’s only one minor change he’s undoing.
> 
> Ravs scrutinises him closely once he announces that he’s done. “I don’t see any difference.”
> 
> “You’re looking at the wrong place.” Daltos indicates with a hand towards his hairline where a sliver of grey is beginning to grow.
> 
> “Your hair is still black.”
> 
> “Look more closely,” Daltos impatiently tells him. If Ravs squinted, there is indeed a difference but it’s so slight that Daltos needn’t have bothered in the first place.
> 
> “Why did you change your hair color to black if it’s just very dark brown?”
> 
> Daltos returns his hair color to black. He sighs. “Because I got sick of people pointing out that my own hair color was black and not a very dark shade of brown.”
> 
> “Oh. Fair enough.” Ravs seems disappointed at how anticlimactic the reveal was. He perks up as an important question pops up into his mind. “One more thing.”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “Does the carpet match the drapes?”
> 
> Daltos’ smirk returns. “Yes, as a matter of fact, they do but you needn’t have asked.”


	18. lomadia (part two)

a nervous tic or habit they do

> She’d thought about cutting her hair when arriving on Pandora. Her hair normally stays untied but today is the day she breaks that tradition, tying both back in braids instead. It’s been such a long time since she’s braided both (not since she was a little girl) that it takes her a few times to get the hang of it.
> 
> By the time she’s done, she’s pleased with the result. There’s enough left dangling for her to reach up to toy with her hair anytime. Her rakk investigates this new change by sniffing the hair bands but she shakes her head to stop it from chewing on them out of curiosity. The rakk flutters to the other side of the room in surprise, both wings folding as it grips the back of the chair and hisses.
> 
> She sighs; clearly the rakk dislikes the change but she tells it that it’ll have to live with it.

describe their usual smile

> Lomadia has passed through many lands on Pandora and no matter who she encounters, they never fail to stop a little shiver when they see her smile. it’s not that lomadia is unused to smiling (years of working in a vet clinic will teach anybody to learn how to fake a smile even as someone denies what’s best for their pet), it’s just that her smiles come off as a tad unsettling.
> 
> one of her pointier teeth tends to escape the corner of her mouth then. her calm eyes are usually half-lidded but when she smiles, the flash with a spark of whatever she’s feeling; the sudden liveliness is a jolt to anyone watching her at that moment. it looks like she knows something that they don’t; she doesn’t but it’s always entertaining to see people shift on the spot when she acts as much.

describe their hands

> her hands are small, suited to slipping into crannies to pick out what’s hidden there or curled around a scalpel as she peels hide away from muscle to dig into a dead skag’s carcass to see what it died of. her nails are not quite sharp but not quite short either; she could definitely hurt someone if she pinched them hard enough.
> 
> one look at the reddish-brown tint of gunk caught under her squarish cuticles will inform anyone that she roughs it out in the wilderness for a living. she has scars of course, from stubborn or skittish animals (most of them are from her rakk; it’s not as tame as most people believed it to be).
> 
> her hands are chapped from the lack of gloves and exposure to the elements and a little bit of skin is drying, flaking off here and there but so long as nothing is cracked and bleeding, she can live with it.
> 
> she is proud of her hands. they tell a story of their own.

what is one of their favorite items?

> She has the idea of requesting shooting lessons from Teep once Zoeya had introduced them (at Nilesy’s insistence).
> 
> It’s hard to tell if they’re glad to meet her though they shake hands with her in a polite enough manner, their gloved hand retreating into their jacket pocket. The sniper rifle slung across their back clinks as they shift slightly.
> 
> “I’d like to learn how to sharpshoot,” She’d told them once Zoeya is out of earshot. She can find her way around a pistol, rifle and shotgun but sniper rifles continue to elude her.
> 
> Teep watches her steadily. She thinks they haven’t heard her when Nilesy’s reminder drifts into her mind: Teep is mute but they aren’t deaf, so be patient when dealing with them.
> 
> One of their hands leaves their jacket to lazily sign at her, “It’ll cost you.”
> 
> “How much?” She asks.
> 
> Their other hand joins the other to sign, “Fifty dollars. You get a discount seeing as you’re a friend of Zoeya’s.”
> 
> “Deal.” Lomadia moves to part with her hard earned cash but Teep shakes their head.
> 
> “Pay me once you’re satisfied you’ve learned enough.”
> 
> She hesitates but decides not to argue. It’ll probably makes sense later. The two of them agree to meet up in a day’s time. The location for the coordinates are at Three Horns Valley, near the ice floes where nobody ever goes.
> 
> Teep is waiting in the shade of a curved bone protruding out of the ground. They acknowledge her with a nod as she approaches on foot. She says nothing as she returns the nod, glad she doesn’t need to find something appropriate to say.
> 
> Snow crunches under their boots that leave footprints following them up the slope. Teep takes her down a path, not needing landmarks to know where they’re going. Her rakk follows far above her, wings spread and beating every now and then to gain height.
> 
> As she walks, she gazes out over the ocean that peeks at her between the rocks. She’s never been to this part of Three Horns before, having only investigated areas just off the main road.
> 
> She blinks as they cross a bridge and end up in an old bandit camp left for nature to take over. Teep strides over to a fence thirty or so metres away. Ten empty rakk ale bottles are digistructed and placed in a row atop it.
> 
> They are back by her side once that’s done. “Do you have a sniper rifle of your own?”
> 
> She shakes her head. A sniper rifle appears in Teep’s hands. They hold it out to her.
> 
> Lomadia takes it and almost staggers back from how heavy it is-it’s far heavier than she ever thought it’d be but she manages to heft it up, figuring out how to balance it so she doesn’t drop it.
> 
> Teep points to the bottles. She understands a moment later that they want her to shoot. It’s ridiculous, she has no experience and she has no idea where to put her hands, the sniper rifle she’s holding feels alien and too unwieldy under her small hands, the metal already cold.
> 
> On top of that, there’s no way she can hit the bottles from this distance with such an icy wind at their backs.
> 
> She hears Teep moving behind her. Shs jumps as their arms appear on either side of her. Gloved hands find her own, manipulating hers so that the rifle is lifted with her own strength and her hands are in the right places. The rifle isn’t that heavy anymore, she realises. she’d just been holding it all wrong.
> 
> Embarrassment burns in her gut, her skin flushing but her dark skin hides that. Teep doesn’t appear to have noticed, stepping back.
> 
> She peers down the scope. The crosshairs sway because of her breathing, the wind and how much she’s trying to suppress her shivering. Steeling herself, she pulls the trigger.
> 
> Despite having expected it, the sniper rifle practically slams into her shoulder from the recoil, the shock traveling up to her joint and down her arm, leaving her muscles numb in its wake. She exhales to stifle the pained sound that almost escapes, the rifle falling as she puts it down, resting it against a vending machine.
> 
> Teep is immediately by her, peering at her. She nods to say she’s fine when they gesture to her arm. the numbing subsides once she stretches and rolls her shoulder a few times. Once she’s looked up again, teep has gone off to check where her shot’s gone.
> 
> A marker pops up in her sight. Lomadia’s heart sinks; it’s nowhere near the first bottle, about ten or so metres skewed to the left. There’s a hole in the wall of the hut.
> 
> She sighs. She needs the lessons because it’s her best bet of surviving on this planet if she engages people from afar. The scar from her last run in is still healing, a mess that Nilesy still feels guilty about when seeing it.
> 
> Teep says nothing, simply moving behind her once she’s picked up the rifle. Again, they correct her hold. This time, Teep runs their hands down her body, nudging her arms into better positions and her legs into a more suitable stance.
> 
> Had it been anyone else, Lomadia would have objected to being touched like this. Teep’s hands never linger on her any longer than necessary. They retreat once they’re satisfied. She can’t help but admire their efficiency. It’d taken less than two minutes to fix all the glaring errors they’d spotted.
> 
> She tries again; it’s another miss. At least her shot is less off-centre, more level with the fence. The bottle she’d been trying to shatter is still standing by the time the rifle flashes the need for more ammo.
> 
> Teep hands her some before showing her exactly how to reload. Lomadia is proud that she remembers it only after having been shown once.
> 
> The first lesson ends without any of the bottles falling but she feels she’s made solid progress, more comfortable with handling a sniper rifle than before. Teep collects up the bottles before walking her all the way back to Sanctuary Hole where she ECHOs Ravs to let them in.
> 
> Outside of the shooting lessons, Teep spends time showing her how to deconstruct and construct an entire rifle (out of spare parts). Not that she ever plans to do any of that, but Teep goes over every part in enough detail so that she can find her way around them if need be for maintenance.
> 
> There’s also the different models, from Maliwan to Jakobs. Teep also shows her how to reload each of them, letting her try to mimic their motions. Hyperion and Maliwan give her the most difficulties while Dahl, Vladof and Jakobs are much more to her liking.
> 
> She doesn’t exactly take notes but teep is willing to explain again or answer any of her questions if she has any. She has plenty and the answers they provide fill the gaps in her knowledge.
> 
> Her spare time is spent practicing everything, going through the motions exactly as Teep taught her, even as her fingers grow stiff and clumsy and sleep causes her to yawn and falter until she fumbles, a sure sign that she should head back.
> 
> Nilesy brings her tea if he’s awake by the time she comes back to the Crooked Caber. He never asks where she goes or gets up to but she tells him anyway. He doesn’t discourage her from the lessons.
> 
> “If you need anything, let me know,” He’d said.
> 
> Ravs lends her the other spare room. He gives her a spare key that she can use to let herself in after hours, provided she’s careful about it.
> 
> “Free of charge, just don’t let it get out that you’ve got a key to my place or else there’s bound to be talk,” He smoothly says, brushing off her offer of payment.
> 
> By the third lesson, she’s managed to break one of the bottles.
> 
> The bruises on her shoulder have healed up now that she knows how to distribute the recoil accordingly so that it induces less pain. She never lets on that the bruises from the previous lessons and practice ache whenever she hefts the rifle up and accidentally bumps it against herself.
> 
> Despite that, Teep somehow knows. They throw her a leather pad (like the kind bandits wore just to be intimidating) that she can buckle around her shoulder. The yellowing bruises will fade in time. She does not ask where the pad came from.
> 
> By the tenth lesson, she can take down half the bottles (if there’s no wind and if there is, she still gets at least three).
> 
> During the twentieth lesson, she manages to knock down all of the bottles. Teep claps, slowly. Lomadia knows they’re not being sarcastic.
> 
> She gives back the Jakobs rifle she’d been borrowing (after having decided Maliwan isn’t to her taste after the second lesson). Teep instead hands her another rifle.
> 
> “A spare I found the other day. It’s now yours.”
> 
> The sniper rifle is of Jakobs make, the color orange flashing at her in her HUD an indicator of the craftsmanship; no normal person could ever get their hands on one of Jakobs prized legendaries that easily.
> 
> Nobody in their right mind either would willingly hand over one and have the gall to call it a spare (and make collectors fall to their knees and weep).
> 
> The gun she’s holding could easily sell for millions, if she ever chose to do so.
> 
> Lomadia looks at Teep, really looks at them, trying to understand why they’d give something so valuable away to an amateur. They shrug when her gaze becomes questioning. She keeps the gun, knowing she’s not getting any answers from them as to how their mind operates despite having spent a fair amount of time under their tutelage.
> 
> They never talk-never exactly say anything through signing or messages, rather, during the lessons. absolute silence rules during these times. Lomadia is happy to let it reign. It’s never awkward between the two of them since the need to talk is absent.
> 
> She learns. They teach. It’s as simple as that.
> 
> Later, on the way back to Sanctuary Hole, Teep then tells her that they’ve arranged for the two of them to head to digistruct peak. Of course, provided she’s happy to accept their invite for further lessons (involving moving targets this time). Lomadia doesn’t hesitate when accepting.
> 
> She doesn’t quite want to hand over the money yet, having come to enjoy the lessons. Besides, there’s still so much she has to learn and she’s yet to start becoming accustomed to her new sniper rifle.
> 
> It becomes her favourite sniper rifle.


	19. nilesy (part two)

a nervous tic or habit they do

> nilesy adjusts his glasses even when they don’t need adjusting. he also cleans them every day.  he doesn’t like touching the lens of his glasses directly so he tends to use his wrists (even the crook of his elbow will do) instead.
> 
> the thing about living on Pandora is that dust gets everywhere, even if nilesy is an indoors person. that includes getting dust on his glasses which bothers him incessantly. getting fingerprints on his glasses after putting them back on his face drives him nuts. as a result he tries to avoid doing touching his glasses as much as possible.

 describe their usual smile

> nilesy has one of those generic customer service smiles that he tends to sport on most occasions. it could be raining hell outside and he’d  _still_ use the customer service smile. he’s perfected it so that it’s almost indistinguishable from his genuine smile. anybody who’s seen him actually happy can tell the immediate difference between the two.
> 
> his wooden customer service smile goes hand in hand with his poker face. see, the trick is to master both so that even if an angry customer is screaming profanities right in your face, smile and nod (you don’t have to listen once the swearing starts). it disarms them, you see, makes them less sure of being able to push you around than if you’re ready to bow and scrape from the get-go.
> 
> a genuine smile from nilesy makes it look like he’s won the lottery. his entire face lights up, even his eyes. he shows teeth when he smiles, in comparison to his other one where he’s doing the motions but if there’s no teeth, it’s not a genuine nilesy smile.

describe their hands

> nilesy has slender hands, all skinny and bony at the wrists just like the rest of him. his bones tend to stick out as well on his fingers and where his knuckles are located. nilesy’s lived a relatively comfortable life so his hands are smooth all over to the touch. his hands get sweaty or are like ice cubes far too readily. on that note, never let nilesy touch you in winter unless he’s wearing gloves because his hands can be really cold.
> 
> he does his nails (keeps them short, prefers them that way ever since he was a kid) often so there’s a shine to them that’s rare on Pandora. he had rounded nails that curve inward if he leaves them uncut you see; it makes chores a lot more difficult if he’s forever losing bits of them when changing sheets or during laundry.
> 
> he only has one healed up scar on his hand and that’s from lomadia’s rakk biting him.

what is one of their favorite items?

> Wherever Ravs goes, he makes an effort to buy a postcard, write on it and send it to Nilesy. If he can’t get one, he gets Rythian to do a quick sketch for him instead (with lots of sighing but Ravs knows that Rythian is secretly flattered to be asked to draw).
> 
> Nilesy keeps each and every single one of the letters and postcards in a lockbox. All of them are filed in chronological order.
> 
> His favourite one will always be the first one Ravs ever sent him. That said, there’s another one that comes in as a close second.
> 
> Nilesy knows the date of what he’s looking for off by heart and extracts the letter with as much care as he can muster, unfolding it. He’s read the letter so many times by now that the paper is starting to crease at the edges and its are falling off but so long as he can still read the words and still has the sketch accompanying it, nilesy is happy.
> 
> There hasn’t been a postcard for this one so there’s a sketch. Rythian normally sketches a bit of scenery to give an idea of where they are.
> 
> The sketch for this letter is different.
> 
> In black pen is a side view of Ravs turned almost away, his arms and hands extended out. A corner roughed out in messy crosshatch forms the vest he’s reaching for. He’s shirtless, disheveled black hair not quite combed yet. a few wayward strands stick up here and there, some falling away from his face.
> 
> He is wearing the look of someone who’s not quite awake yet, with half-lidded eyes and a content smile that Rythian had somehow managed to capture.
> 
> The angle Rythian had also chosen to draw Ravs in also exposes the broad expanse of his back, curves of ink forming the rise and fall of corded muscle in painstaking detail. Scars are marked here and there in scratches, seemingly almost added as an afterthought, the ink rendering them fainter than the rest of the sketch.
> 
> It ends at Rav’s waist (right above his hip) where a single, unbroken line indicates the start of his kilt.
> 
> This is also the only time Rythian’s written something to accompany the sketch.
> 
> Come to think of it, Nilesy’s never thanked him for it. He should fix that while he has the sketch out. Nilesy takes the stairs down to the ground floor of the Crooked Caber where sure enough, Rythian and Ravs are bantering.
> 
> “Hey, Rythian.” Nilesy makes sure he sounds casual enough. “Thanks for this.”
> 
> “For what?” Rythian raises an eyebrow. Nilesy holds the sketch out. As intended, Ravs plucks it from him before Rythian can take it and peers at it.
> 
> “Rythian, you drew me,” Ravs says in a hushed voice. He looks at Rythian with awe.
> 
> “ _What_ , no, I-” Rythian teleports onto the other side of the counter to see what he’s on about. Nilesy has to use every bit of his willpower to not crack up at the brief confusion, recognition and finally, pure mortification that plays out over Rythian’s face in the next five seconds.
> 
> “You wrote something too,” Nilesy helpfully points out.
> 
> “No, don’t read it!” Rythian’s hand swipes at the sketch. Ravs just shifts out of his way.
> 
> “You wrote, ‘ _damn, son_ ’,” Ravs reads out, his voice cracking on the last word because he’s already howling with laughter.
> 
> Grinning, Nilesy takes the sketch back before a still mortified Rythian can grab it and burn it (because like an idiot, he’d forgotten to erase what he’d written as a joke before sending it).


	20. nanosounds (part two)

a nervous tic or habit they do

> nanosounds has a habit of curling and uncurling her hands whenever she’s agitated because she’s so used to preparing for a fight under those circumstances. it’s a habit stemming back from her childhood (see below).

describe their usual smile

> Her usual smile looks like she’s about to rip you a new one. Well, it’s not that she means to intimidate but it always comes out that way anyway so what can she does about it?
> 
> Before her mother pulled her out of school to be tutored at home, her smile in her last school photo was just that: her sporting a shit-eating grin from punching the other kids for making fun of her tattoos that her nice dress couldn’t quite cover up because some little asshole had ripped one of the long sleeves off to try to ruin her day.
> 
> That dress had cost two hundred dollars, professionally designed just for photo day and all it took was one snot nosed brat who couldn’t stand the other kids fawning over her new dress. It’d been the only time she’d worn a dress to school too.
> 
> She’d been forced to have her photo taken after the fight (secretly struggling not to  _cry_  the entire time because her dress, the one her mother had gifted her is  _ruined_ , she is going to get into so much  _trouble_ ).
> 
> Her mother had showed up in person and hustled her home after the principal called up (much to their shock; rich corporate CEOs didn’t just turn up for a school fight their kid got into). She doesn’t find out until later that her mother had pressed charges over the dress and the massive bruise left on Nanosounds’ face.
> 
> She could have done worse to the other kids but there’d been five against one and while she’s impressively strong for her age and height, numbers would have won out in the end. Thankfully her powers were dormant at the time. One year later, she accidentally summons her first tentacle at the breakfast table but that’s another story for another time.
> 
> In the car, her mother had told her in a clipped tone that it’d all be sorted out, she’s not to worry one bit. Well, Nanosounds had been happy that if she’d be studying at home, that entire incident is worth having a sore face and never wearing dresses to school ever again.
> 
> She asks her mother years later about the photo. Her mother pulls it out of a drawer and hands it over. Nanosounds is surprised. Her face is not bruised and she can’t quite see how ripped the dress is, since the photo is cut off right above her shoulders.
> 
> Her mother smiles (the resemblance the two of them is pretty uncanny, according to some of the servants).
> 
> “Nothing a little computer magic can fix and it’d be such a shame to let a nice photo of you go to waste.”

describe their hands

> Her hands are as tough as the soles of her feet. she used to run around her house and outside, barefoot (later tracking dirt and mud all over the clean carpet but she swears she wiped her feet first before coming in). They’re leathery for someone who works in an office but Nanosounds likes to get her hands dirty by taking on odd jobs. much more exciting, for one thing.
> 
> Ever since she’d arrived on Pandora, her hands have slowly adapted to the nature of her new work. Where they’d once been just leathery, they’re now scarred, more tanned, baked by the sun so they’re tough to nick and heh, basically the stuff of her mother’s manicurist’s nightmares.
> 
> Her once round nails are broken off at the tips because while her hands are tough, her nails aren’t, so they’re always a tad uneven and look like she’s been chewing on them when she hasn’t been.
> 
> She considers her fingers to be too short and ugly since they bend at weird angles when she lays her hand flat in the table, see, her index one curves up too much (she pointedly ignores Lalna going ‘great for picking your nose though!’).
> 
> You know whose hands she admires? Nilesy’s. He’s got the best nails out of everyone she knows.

what is one of their favorite items?

> Rythian gives her a gun one day, out of the blue. It’s not like him to ever let go of a gun let alone give it away. Because she’s as much of a gun nut as any self respecting Vault Hunter is, she happily takes it. She also misses the split second’s worth of relief on his face before he teleports away to deal with something else.
> 
> The gun is custom-made, that much is clear from the ruby red paint job. the parts are an assortment of manufacturers; Rythian had mumbled about it ‘being a gift from Ravs and Teep’. She hadn’t realised the two could make custom guns.
> 
> She goes to try the gun in the firing range located at the back of the gunshop. Old Sereno lets her in without asking questions or looking up from his newspaper, sandals squeaking as he crosses the floor to slide back behind the counter.
> 
> The ‘Devastator’ SMG is feather light for its size so she hefts it up easily to open fire on a target. The flavor text boasts ‘will really rock your world’. Since she’s never been good at deciphering cryptic text, she ignores it. The gun’s grip is wrapped in a surface that feels odd, almost rubbery but not quite, soft and textured like the inside of a wetsuit.
> 
> She pulls the trigger, the gun spitting out the first lot of shock bullets at a decent rate, most of them managing to stay on target. That’s a plus already. She thinks nothing of how hot the room is becoming but by the time she’s reloading, she’s also wiping sweat off her brow, panting despite having not moved from the spot.
> 
> The room is well ventilated and she isn’t sick so why is she feeling warmer than usual? It feels like someone is stoking a fire underneath her, adding more logs by the second. The back of her shirt is getting soaked. The gun purrs as she feeds ammo into it.
> 
> Her palm that’s wrapped around the grip is tingling with a cool sensation contrasting how she’s currently feeling.
> 
> It’s spreading to the rest of her body the longer she has the trigger held. It feels awfully  _nice_ , like her hair is being played with, hands ghosting across her stomach where she’s most sensitive, the feeling on top of the world (cloud nine, here she comes) growing more intoxicating-wait a second, why is the gun purring?
> 
> She lifts it up, inspecting it, taking her finger off the trigger. The gun continues to  _purr_ , definitely vibrating. Nanosounds stares at the gun, eyes sliding to the grip. The tingling and euphoria subside (her traitorous brain already pining after both feelings).
> 
> It’s not rubber she’s holding onto, it’s a biometric interface. Rythian has some explaining to do, because guns shouldn’t do (let alone be capable of) what she thinks this one is doing. Her face has grown even pinker by the time she marches into the Crooked Caber.
> 
> Rythian is backed up against the counter when she corners him, brandishing the offending gun in his face. He doesn’t even have the chance to explain before Ravs spots the gun and is eyeing the both of them, looking far too entertained already.
> 
> “I see it was a little too much for Rythian,” Ravs casually remarks. Rythian shoots him a glare.
> 
> “I hate you and Teep. So much,” He hisses. To Nanosounds, he delivers an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I should have told you what it really did.” He lifts a hand. “I can take the gun back if you don’t want it any-”
> 
> “Are you kidding? I love it!” is Nanosounds’ enthusiastic interruption.
> 
> “ _What?_  You can’t be serious-” Rythian gapes at her. Ravs just raises a bemused eyebrow.
> 
> “It’s the  _best_  gun ever. You should have given it to me sooner, it’s just wasted on you-”
> 
> “Hey, that gun is  _obscene_ -” Rythian starts.
> 
> “It’s a lovely work of art, I’ll have you know,” Ravs cuts in with a cheeky grin. “Possibly the best Teep and I ever made and we made it just for  _you_.”
> 
> “Which is why I didn’t want it once I knew what it did!” Rythian retorts.
> 
> “Oh Rythian, the gun heals you if you use it  _right_ ,” Ravs points out, clearly relishing how Ruthian is losing ground, fast. “That’s what happens when Teep combines bullets and transfusion grenade mod.”
> 
> “It’s still not worth the other ‘effects’,” Rythian ends up saying in a strangled voice, pulling his scarf higher up his face.
> 
> “And that, gentlemen, is why I’m keeping it,” Nanosounds declares, pocketing said gun before ambling off to shower. Ravs and Rythian glance at each other, Ravs waggling both eyebrows at Rythian.
> 
> Rythian carefully avoids looking at him to stare at the ceiling and wonder why his friends are all  _terrible_  people. 


	21. rythian (part two)

 a nervous tic or habit they do

> Rythian is constantly reaching for the little trinket dangling around his neck whenever he’s distressed. There’s no way he’ll ever actually pull it off its cord no matter how hard he tugs at it (which is always reassuring to know considering he can never be too sure about his own strength when under a great deal of stress and he gets stressed a lot).
> 
> When the past pulls at him (it’s been doing that more and more these days for reasons he can’t fathom or parse from his nightmares), the trinket serves as a suitable enough anchor. Anything else that causes him to concentrate on the present, from someone touching him to the pain of biting his own cheek will also suffice.
> 
> He knows it’s not normal to go through these cycles of being fine one moment and in the next, his own head is turning against him but there’s not much he can do about it without resorting to drastic measures.
> 
> As they say, when you’re traveling alone, you save one bullet and that bullet is for your own damned self. He avoids having the one bullet on hand. On some days, he’s not sure if he can resist the temptation.

describe their usual smile

> rythian doesn’t smile often. when he does, there’s an exhausted edge to it, rendering his smile distant despite the fact that he’s standing right there. forgive him; he’s severely out of practice and it takes more muscles to frown, which he’s more accustomed to doing. there’s not much that’ll coax a smile out of him, these days.
> 
> he tries not to pull his scarf down so far as to expose his entire face. While he’s not self conscious about the scars around his mouth, it’s the fear of people reacting to seeing his teeth that hold him back from ever really smiling. so, his smiles are ill-fitting and anybody watching can’t quite put their finger on why unless they catch a glimpse of said teeth when rythian is speaking and it clicks.  people are less inclined to watch him, after.
> 
> hence, he prefers to hide his smiles behind his scarf.

describe their hands

> Rythian has rather elegant hands for someone who is too used to life on Pandora. Elegant hands being: long, spidery fingers that’d look right at home leafing through the pages of a book or calibrating delicate instruments with the utmost of care. Those same hands can look just as elegant reloading a shotgun after having fired it point-blank into a chest and definitely not prying his knife out of someone’s neck.
> 
> It’s a shame but his hands are marred by scars, scars everywhere. Tiny lines (that never healed right) that could hardly be called a scar, jagged scratches that once almost went straight down to the bone, patches of paler scar tissue rendering the afflicted flesh thicker than the skin around it, a multitude of bite marks from creatures he’s had to fend off so he can keep his hands, not lose them, plus misshapen, aged scab-shaped flecks from elemental damage near-misses (back when learning how to handle a gun).
> 
> He keeps his hands and arms bandaged up to stop most people from staring.
> 
> His nails are in just as bad as a condition as his hands, all of them covered in dust and god only knows what else, always one nail in the middle of growing back after he’d broken it at some point. His fingers are almost always smudged too. A couple of his fingers are crooked from having been broken or injured (again, somewhere in his past).
> 
> Touching Rythian’s bare hand is like running a finger over minute crevices that dip down and rise like the dry, textured veins of a fine, papery scroll. He tries not to hold hands with anyone because if he fears they can feel his history bleed into them through touch, even through the bandages.

what is one of their favorite items?

> he’s been keeping a sketchbook of his travels with the other vault hunters (old and new). he bought the thing prior to arriving on Pandora. it’s a leather covered beast that boasts about a hundred and fifty or so pages (when full, you’ll see why below). his other sketchbook (a field journal) was disposed of, a long time ago.
> 
> there’s a digistruct module embedded in the spine with a limited amount of pages loaded onto it. he has no idea how to refill it. the pages digistruct once the module senses that the amount of pages drops below a certain threshold. he doubts Pandora has an art store or anything so he tries his best to keep his current one as intact as possible (however careless he was with it in the past) and not to waste pages.
> 
> it’s a miracle it’s lasted this long due to the following:

  * having half of its pages ripped out because Rythian couldn’t stand what he was drawing
  * has had coffee spilled on it at least five times now
  * has had blood splattered across it on five separate occasions
  * been dropped in a rain puddle twice
  * chewed on by an animal (zoeya’s subjects)
  * stolen twice (by teep because Rythian’s draw them again, how the fuck did they know these things but returned eventually)
  * almost set on fire seven times (look, drawing by the light of a fire is hard)
  * Rythian using pages to sketch shit and tearing them out for a variety of reasons to explain stuff
  * sat on at least twenty times
  * almost being used as kindling
  * leafed through a hundred times and some of the pages are dog-eared to the point of shedding bits



> this is not a complete and exhaustive list of what the sketchbook has been through, mind you. 


	22. turpster

describe their usual smile

> turps smiles like he’s been to the same charm school that all the savvy businesspeople have been to. imagine a (mostly even) row of straight white teeth with a tiny gap in the middle being bared at you from across a bare wooden table.
> 
> it’s polite enough, that smile. you’ve seen it enough times on the lieutenant in charge of you to know what they’d rather be saying instead is ‘stop wasting my fucking time’.
> 
> you’re in a dingy room with only a single, naked light bulb clinging for dear life to an equally naked wire. the air is permeated with the smell of stale cigarettes and human fear. the chair you’re tied to sways, one of its legs an inch shorter than the other three for reasons you couldn’t give a shit about because your head is pounding from a lack of sleep and wounds you sustained during the fight when trying to escape lynchwood.
> 
> you have answers and even if you don’t, you’re going to to relinquish them to the man smiling across the table from you. his teeth are out of place because everything else in the room is in their various stages of falling apart (including you but you don’t know that yet).
> 
> the man gives you the chance to ask why you were snooping around his town. being the bandit you are, you spit in his face and grin afterwards. your buddies (languishing in jail cells of their own) would be proud of you.
> 
> he wipes the spit off, his smile growing a shade more sinister. you think it’s just the flickering light playing tricks on you. for one doubt filled second, you regret spitting in his face but it passes. you’re going to stick to your guns, no matter what happens and you’d rather die than tell this prick anything about your gang’s activities (even if you’re just a lowly scout).
> 
> he walks over to the door and has a quiet word with the deputy standing guard there. a few seconds later, three figures shuffle into the room (one with shiftier looking features than yours which is something, one with a gas mask that looks ridiculous and one with the likes of a shaggy but well groomed beard you’ve never seen before).
> 
> the bearded one drops a duffel bag onto the table. things inside of it clink, clunk and rattle before settling.
> 
> turps rises. “you’ll wish you’d told me everything before once these three are done with you.”
> 
> you laugh but abruptly stop, because the one with the gas mask clicks their fingers and a spark of a fire dances in their palm before being put out.
> 
> the next hour is the longest in your entire life.


	23. xephos (part two)

a nervous tic or habit they do

> xephos wrings their hands a lot whenever they’re nervous. which is almost all the time. they don’t really have any other items on hand (pun not intended) that they can fiddle with to alleviate it; they used to bite their nails, but they kept biting right down to the cuticles (which really, really fucking hurts) so they kicked the habit. wringing their hands is less painful but it is a pretty obvious sign that there’s something up with them.

describe their usual smile

> xephos’ smile radiates a lot of the tension that they feel on the inside, so their smiles seem a tad forced to begin with (even when xephos is trying their best to contain it as much as possible). they know that their smile isn’t as nice as honeydew’s (because honeydew has the dimples, the gap tooth and an infectious grin, plus all the confidence) which doesn’t help one bit. so add a thin layer of insecurity to xephos’ smile.
> 
> they’ve got the motions down despite having practiced for hours on end in front of a mirror and it drives xephos nuts that they can’t figure out what they’re missing. being stuck on Pandora doesn’t help and it takes a toll on them sometimes, so xephos’ smiles never quite reach their eyes either (and most days, their smile look more worn out than wooden).
> 
> honeydew still likes their smiles though and appreciates the effort.

do they look up or down while thinking?

> they tend to look up and off to the side since given their height, they don’t want to be seen as looking down on anyone or insecure.

describe their usual sleeping position

> FETAL POSITION sleeper with hands close by and legs tucked up. they’ve slept like that ever since they were a kid. sleeping positions are supposed to tell you a lot about someone and if so, xephos is hands down one of those people who is used to sleeping like that because they won’t fit into the bed otherwise. any bed, really.

describe something they like without naming it

> it’s a box. it’s a gateway to the entire world, once you’ve wired and connected it up right. there’s all these complicated tidbits inside that you have to be very careful not to get anything on (like say, water) or Bad Things Happen.
> 
> it took xephos only a couple of years to find their way around the insides of it, to know what each component does. they can still list each of them off by heart. they’ve built several of these amazing boxes on their own before (growing more ambitious every time).
> 
> when they learned they could make a career out of studying these boxes, they signed up for it instantly and worked incredibly hard to achieve their dream (blazing through it) before deciding to pursue a second degree (which is how they met honeydew).
> 
> they don’t build these boxes as much these days because they prefer to buy them pre-made. the boxes aren’t just boxes anymore; they come in a variety of shapes and sizes to suit your needs and well, xephos just loves that variety and multifunctionality.

what’s their posture like in a normal situation?

> imagine a perfectly straight line. that is xephos’ posture. they are about as bad as zylus when it comes to maintaining their posture in a normal situation. they used to slouch but then it started taking a toll on their back so they’ve practically conditioned themself to stand up as straight as possible.
> 
> even while sitting at a computer, xephos’ posture is straight. honeydew thinks it’s weird because he can balance a book on their head and it won’t fall (until xephos notices and in which case, timber).

describe their hands

> twitchy hands with restless fingers, as dark skinned as the rest of them. their fingers are long and tapered, less bonier than rythian’s (it’s especially prominent around the joints) but bony, all the same. xephos has never been in a position of doing manual labor so their hands reflect as much, being soft and smooth all over with none of the leathery coarseness that’s found on say, ravs and zylus’ hands.
> 
> they have delicate fingers with thin skin so xephos takes any damage to their hands seriously; paper cuts last longer and the marks don’t always quite fade as they should but eh. the same applies for bruises and scratches.
> 
> they are also a stickler for cleanliness so they’re almost as bad as nilesy about keeping their nails and hands as clean and neat as possible. their nails are also rectangular (square once trimmed). they envy nilesy’s nails.

write a quote they would find themselves saying

> “You are now  _banned_  from becoming the head of  _any_ cult.” - Xephos post talking Honeydew out of starting his own cult.

how would their hair gray? or would they lose their hair first?

> already going grey, friend 8) likely to lose their hair once they get old though since not everyone can be that lucky. but okay, imagine a bald xephos. you’re welcome.

describe how they show affection.

> xephos has an incredibly straightforward way of showing affection which involves taking care of people in the only way they know how: by doing everything they can in their power (from cooking to cleaning) to make sure that person is well-cared for even if they overexert themselves in the process because they literally care too much. it’s actually pretty unusual since xephos can be surprisingly selfish at times (i.e., the bee shield incident).
> 
> this level of affection can primarily seen in how xephos follows honeydew everywhere like an overbearing mother hen; xephos fusses over him even when they don’t need to. honeydew thinks it’s hilarious, adorable and annoying, all at the same time. sometimes honeydew finds it fun to send xephos into a panic by getting into dangerous situations just because he can and to prove to xephos that he can, in fact, take care of himself.
> 
> xephos thinks that honeydew is a dick and should stop that right now, there are bullets everywhere and oh god, why is that barrel exploding and IS THAT GUY WIELDING A BUZZAXE, HELP, THEY DO NOT BELONG HERE.
> 
> fun times.

what is one of their favorite items?

> remember that keyboard back in [this headcanon post](http://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/137676479979/headcanon-meme-part-7-out-of-11)? hands down one of their fav items still.


	24. trottimus (part two)

a nervous tic or habit they do

> he tends to steeple his hands together so that his hands are within range of the digistruct modules containing his surveyors, out of caution. he keeps his digistruct modules attached to his cuff links and in the pockets of his lab coats. his inventory is linked to all of them so that gives him an emergency backup if he can’t ever really reach his cuff links, he has something to fall back on.

describe their usual smile

> out of the three? trottimus had the most smug and smarmy smile. he doesn’t show teeth while he smiles; it’s more of an upwards quirking of his lips in the most self-assured manner he can muster, based on Ross and alsmiffy’s feedback during that one time they all sat down together and tried to figure out how to improve their image (with the exception of alsmiffy participating, for obvious reasons).
> 
> his eyes tend to narrow when he smiles so his eyes (a dark brown that is almost black) have a devious glint to them. according to the other two, at any rate.

do they look up or down while thinking?

> he looks up. he claims it’s not because the other two are taller than him.

describe their usual sleeping position

> trottimus is usually the first to sleep. the moment his head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light. it’s weird to the other two because he just seems like one of those people who plays around on their laptops for an hour in bed before going to sleep. the reality is that when trottimus flops onto the bed, a second later, he’s passed out. sometimes ross has to remove his shoes for him.
> 
> he sleeps like he’s dead to the world. alsmiffy has pinched, prodded and punched him in the side to see what’d happen. trottimus had just slapped alsmiffy in the face when rolling over and snored on without a care. yes, trottimus snores but they’re more of a soft, breathy series of sounds as he dreams.
> 
> he stays still while asleep, only ever tossing and turning every now and again to stop one side of his body going numb.

describe something they like without naming it

> there is a board. imagine anything you like on it. every move and every action on the board is determined by a single roll of a die. the die has many faces and any outcome may occur. the worst is death. the best is glory, salvation and MURDER.
> 
> alright, the last one is a joke but trottimus definitely thinks that he can make murder happen with a natural critical role (and his fellow travelers have learned not to argue with him about it). while there are challenges, trottimus also enjoys the tales that are told over the board. there are others that join him, others who tag along, who come along for the whole journey or eventually part ways with him and his company.
> 
> no matter who pops up, the board accommodates all and no single fellow traveler will ever have the same story; trottimus likes to hear them all. he’s never actually brought the board out in person; traveling around constantly has downsides, after all and inventory space is limited.
> 
> the majorities of stories trottimus hears are told via group ECHO calls. he never knows the storyteller’s faces, just the rise and fall of their voices telling story after story after story. he tells some of his own sometimes. he thinks they’re not as good as the overseer’s ones but it’s good practice; he gets criticisms, he gets tears, he gets feedback and laughs; he values them all.
> 
> he could go on and on but these are just some of the reasons why he always carved out a niche for himself on the weekend, just him, his laptop, his data sheets loaded up on his echo with a working echonet connection and a hot cup of tea.

what’s their posture like in a normal situation?

> trott’s posture is half a slouch and half standing up straight. he’s short so that it’s not as prominent in comparison to say, someone like alsmiffy.
> 
> he tends to fiddle with his hands as well, either having one in a pocket or both of them entwined, just to stop himself from fiddling with the module deploying his surveyors (he’s accidentally done that once and the fire that’d started had frightened off their potential client, whoops). he holds his head up high because he hates it when people look down on him simply because of height.

describe their hands

> trottimus’ hands are as brown as the rest of him, with small marks left behind from mishandling a technical tool from time to time. he has a short thumb (if such a thing is possible) and long graceful fingers that, when flattened out, resemble flippers. he used to mess around in his bathtub as a kid, pretending he was some sort of sea creature with webbed hands (always had to eventually come up for air, though).
> 
> he has fine hairs on the back of his fingers, barely noticeable unless he’s looking at them in the right sort of light. his nails are always kind of stubby, rounded and fractured under even just the slightest bit of pressure. he’s forever having to cut tiny slivers of them off to avoid it becoming annoying, later on. he’s had fingernails caught in the lining of his lab coat before and it’s always a hassle to extract them.
> 
> he’s always pushed off the heavy, laborious tasks onto Ross as much as possible (and alsmiffy too, to an extent but alsmiffy can’t lift anything to save his life). that said, trottimus isn’t afraid to pull his weight when needed, so his palms and the pads of his fingers aren’t as smooth as anyone initially suspects. that said, his hands aren’t also as dry. ever since the operation, he’s never found his hands to ever in that state.

write a quote they would find themselves saying

> “You’re not allowed to make toast  _ever again_.” - Trottimus during kitchen incident in regards to alsmiffy’s cooking (aka, making of toast).

how would their hair gray? or would they lose their hair first?

> loses hair first and goes grey. it’s the genes at work here again. bald trottimus for life is what i’m saying, heh.

describe how they show affection.

> his manner of showing affection is fairly run of the mill. he remembers important bits of trivia about the person (e.g. Ross loves jerky, alsmiffy likes curry), generally makes sure that they’re not overworking themselves to the point of passing out, makes sure that they’re eating and drinking and not depriving themselves of either. little things like that. not that he’ll ever be as much of a mother hen as xephos is; that said, trottimus is one of those people who gently reminds others that it’s literally been three hours since they last ate and he doesn’t want to carry them back to the hotel.
> 
> that said, his reminders can turn into nagging that soon turns into ‘dumping food and water into someone’s lap without warning’ and marching off without another word, plus a dramatic sigh like they’ve inconvenienced him in some way. they haven’t, it’s just what he wants them to think. he likes to give off the impression that he doesn’t care when in fact, he does. sort of. he doesn’t want the other two to be pining after him now.

what is one of their favorite items?

> he adores his surveyors. how did he get all three of them? that’ll be covered in a hatfilms chapter later. 


	25. alsmiffy (part two)

 a nervous tic or habit they do

> alsmiffy has the atrocious habit of spawning and despawning his gloves and playing around with the flame. he likes to juggle a little fireball or constantly turn on and off the gas so that a little bit of fire spurts out. he does this whenever he’s nervous; the sight of the fire is reassuring (to him at any rate, he can’t speak for the other two who get annoyed by the sound and the risk of something being set on fire but alsmiffy is very careful).
> 
> if he can’t make flames, he resorts to shifting on the spot and generally fidgeting. sometimes he’ll adjust his tie or suit or whatever he thinks is out of place. this is usually an indication that he’s shifting from nervousness to boredom which the other two have learned to look out for, because it means alsmiffy is about to cause some trouble and should be distracted pretty soon.

describe their usual smile

> you’re asking what a usual smile from alsmiffy looks like, considering he usually wears a gas mask. not that anybody will ever see it, but if ross’s one looks like a shit-eating grin, trottimus’ one looks like a smirk, then alsmiffy’s is more of a pained grimace, lips stretched wide so that both front rows of grit teeth are bared.
> 
> he takes a little after Ross in the teeth baring department. if he ever takes his helmet off to smile, he tends to cover up his lower face with a hand because he knows that his smile isn’t really a smile and FUCK OFF TROTTIMUS, HE DOESN’T MAKE FUN OF YOUR SMIRK SO DON’T MAKE FUN OF HIS SMILE.
> 
> fun fact: sometimes he accidentally licks the inside of his gas mask when making some more extreme faces or practicing his smiles. he thinks it’s gross but there’s no way he can dry it off without taking off the damn thing so he just has to put up with it until he has a private moment.

do they look up or down while thinking?

> he looks…up, surprisingly. not sure why. he just does.

describe their usual sleeping position

> alsmiffy is a tosser and turner. he starts off by sleeping on one side of the bed and by the time morning comes around, he’ll be squashing Ross or trottimus or end up on the other side of the bed, hogging all the blankets and pillows because he’s great like that. he is aware of it and he is not in the slightest bit apologetic about it.
> 
> in fact, he claims it helps him sleep, to kick Ross as he rolls over. Ross usually likes to shove him away though. alsmiffy gets disgruntled but goes back to sleep soon enough.

describe something they like without naming it

> it’s not that he dislikes people looking at him; it’s because he prefers the safety and comfort of having his facial features hidden if he keeps them covered. also, it’s always wise to have some sort of protection when you’re playing with fire and playing with fire is something alsmiffy is rather good at, so. he has a theme and that theme is fire. 
> 
> he’d long since painted the thing covering his face with paint, the design being his own handiwork. even if it’s fading a little because nothing lasts forever, he’s still proud of it, even to this day. insults and jabs about it slid off him like water off feathers.
> 
> trottimus and ross have only ever seen him without it when he’s about to shower, get up in the morning, sleep or eat or whatever else requires that his face be uncovered. he prefers having it over his face, of course but there are some days where he likes to keep it off (always scaring trottimus in the house because his face is just that unfamiliar to him, even after all this time).
> 
> he has a backup set but he doesn’t like the paint job on that one (he’d put the least amount of effort into the job on that one and he regrets it to this day, just a little).
> 
> maintenance simply consists of giving the thing a quick wipe with a damp towel and cleaning the internal filters every week or so. he’s always surprised at how much gunk and dust gets caught up in them, falling out in small clouds that leave him glad that he goes places with them filtering the air because if that’s the stuff people  _breathe_  into their lungs then he’s glad he’s wearing the thing everywhere he goes.

what’s their posture like in a normal situation?

> alsmiffy slouches if there’s nobody important around (that is, nobody they need to scam or intimidate or deal with). he stands up so that he’s as tall as possible if there is, to make a great first impression (because ross is simply just not tall enough to do it, as alsmiffy firmly believes).

describe their hands

> alsmiffy’s hands are rather pale from being gloved. his face is freckled so the back of his hands are covered in them as well. he has thin, delicate fingers that can easily be grabbed and broken with not very much effort (as Ross proved once, when alsmiffy was being a dick but don’t worry, it healed eventually but now that particular finger has a little crook to it).
> 
> he has rectangular fingernails and is quite possibly, the one with the cleanest hands out of all of hat corp. members. his hands can quickly become really sweaty once he uses his action skill gloves. he jokes about taking off his sweaty, regular gloves, turning them inside out and smacking trottimus in the face with them (much to trottimus’ disgust).
> 
> his hands are also the least scarred because he takes the most care to avoid injury to them since they’re so crucial to his action skill and well, nobody likes losing a hand (as lalna can testify).

write a quote they would find themselves saying

> “It’s my fault that toast burns far too easily!”

how would their hair gray? or would they lose their hair first?

> goes grey. imagine a freckled alsmiffy with grey hair that’s not longer ginger in most places but is speckled with grey all over.

describe how they show affection.

> alsmiffy’s manner of showing affection is being less of a dick than he usually is so it’s not very noticeable. most of his affection is expressed silently and subtly. he’s not very comfortable with words so he’s very much a ‘actions speak louder than words’ person.
> 
> little things like making sure trottimus’ stuff is always charged (he claims it’s ross plugging them in when trott’s back is turned), ross always has an energy bar (even if he has to shove it into ross’ hands before a mission) and that their current place of residence is secure.
> 
> trottimus and ross pretend that they don’t know it’s alsmiffy doing these things.

what is one of their favorite items?

> it’s shiny. it’s explosive. it’s spits out  _fire_  and it’s super heavy but it’s the most  _beautiful_ thing he’s ever seen. just wait until alsmiffy gets his hands on a certain legendary rocket launcher. 


	26. djh3max (part two)

a nervous tic or habit they do

> ross tends to hum or beatbox while he’s idle or grappling with some train of thought. it’s not often he does this since he’s so relatively calm but in times where he’s not really chill, the habit kicks in automatically. alsmiffy doesn’t mind it and trottimus doesn’t mind it; it’s actually kind of soothing because ross can actually carry a tune or a beat. ross is always sure to make sure that his humming is super quiet because he worries that it’ll disturb the other two (it doesn’t).

describe their usual smile

> ross’ smile is a shit-eating grin and it’s all sharp teeth. his beard makes his smile appear way bigger than it actually is and given ross’ condition, he has more teeth crammed into his mouth than what is humanly possible. surprise, he doesn’t like going to any dentist, even for checkups so trottimus and alsmiffy have to bribe and coax him into going.
> 
> his smile appears the same no matter what he’s feeling and it’s precisely the reason why people are usually quick to hand over the goods or whatever hat corp. wants because it’s that terrifying, just make him stop smiling. ross doesn’t give a shit about what they think about his smile because he thinks his smile is great.
> 
> for a guy who eats anything and everything (but chocolate, unless he’s got a day off to digest the stuff), ross has brilliantly white teeth that remain sharp no matter what. even if he’s terrified, he’ll still smile and it’ll come off as confident even on the inside, he really wants to wet himself.
> 
> ⇅ do they look up or down while thinking?
> 
> watching alsmiffy, trottimus and ross think is pretty funny because when they’re out in public, the three of them tend to look up while they think and people think they’re staring off into the distance of the sky.

describe their usual sleeping position

> ross sleeps on his back in a spread-eagled position so that the other two are free to curl up besides him (or in alsmiffy’s case, ending up on top of ross halfway through the night). he snores but not very loudly, much to the other two’s relief.
> 
> like a good watchdog (pun not intended), ross is highly attuned to sounds around him, so he’s usually the first to wake up if there’s some sort of disturbance. being the one sleeping in the middle of the bed, he usually has to shake off the other two to go investigate.
> 
> sometimes he likes to cuddle someone. that someone is alsmiffy because alsmiffy is a stick and gets cold easily, shut up trottimus but just to shake things up a bit, ross also cuddles trottimus every now and again so that he doesn’t feel left out. it’s rare he cuddles the other two simultaneously since his arms get pretty sore if the other two are piled on top; unless it’s super cold and they want to leech body heat off him because they’re hideous like that.
> 
> ross puts up many things while sleeping, from cold feet to trottimus kneeing him in the side and removing one dozing alsmiffy off him to put him back where he belongs: on the other side of the bed, where he won’t roll onto him again.

describe something they like without naming it

> as a joke, trottimus and alsmiffy had went and gotten him something from the pet store. it’s a rubbery, garish pink object shaped like a femur. ross hates it. it’s insulting.
> 
> his transformation fucking loves it though; every single time he transforms and the stupid thing is sitting in his sight, an itch makes his jaws and teeth crave for it something fierce. and off he goes, plodding over to it, curling up on the floor with it between his paws, gnawing on it to make the itch go away. unless he puts it away beforehand, he will come to, on the floor, with it covered in slobber and teeth marks near him.
> 
> he can never bring himself to throw it away, though. if trottimus and alsmiffy wanted to be dicks, they sometimes sneaked a dog treat in there beforehand so that the urge grows too much for him to ignore so he goes straight for it if there’s a full moon.

what’s their posture like in a normal situation?

> ross’ posture is pretty normal. he doesn’t strive to stand up as straight as possible or slouch. he’s got it pretty comfortable with his posture as a result though if he wants to appear taller, all he has to do is fluff up his beard even more. it helps hide how short he is, sometimes (fuck alsmiffy and his weird complex about having to appear more intimidating than him).

describe their hands

> ross’ hands are about as hairy as the rest of him. there’s hairs on the backs of his fingers, hair on the back of his hands and hairs going all the way up his arms to his elbows so that it forms a fine carpet. he has large hands (that trottimus likes to call them ‘big, meaty paws, good for smacking alsmiffy when alsmiffy is being naughty’).
> 
> his nails are something else, being hilariously difficult to break, curving downwards just the tiniest bit at the tips. they always grow out within a few days of him cutting them (with the best nail cutters money could buy) so there’s always a good centimetre or so. weirdly enough, if he leaves them that way, they grow at a normal rate.
> 
> trottimus and alsmiffy had thought he was developing a weird fetish for nails given how often he kept comparing their hands until he’d explained why. ross’ nails grow whenever he transforms so that they’re at optimal slashing length as great big pointy claws. they always reverted back to the state he’d left them in beforehand, though, a nice bonus. shame about the mess he gets on his hands in the process, though, since it doesn’t go away either.

write a quote they would find themselves saying

> “I guess I’m in charge of cooking, then.”

how would their hair gray? or would they lose their hair first?

> ross goes gray, like his father and mother and their father and mother did and so forth, you get the idea. he’ll never go bald or anything because that’s another plus of being able to transform into a great big hairy beast whenever he wants to. he’s not going to let trottimus or alsmiffy know, though.

describe how they show affection.

> he tends to be a very touchy person who is comfortable with giving someone a hug, a pat on the shoulder or leaning in close to see what they’re looking at.
> 
> he also tends to do things without being asked, like making sure that they have all the stuff they need to make meals for the next three days during a stakeout, alsmiffy has enough wipes for that helmet of his, trottimus has spare parts for those surveyors; little, autonomous tasks that help their operations and lives run much more smoothly.
> 
> ross doesn’t usually forget what a person likes and dislikes either, once he knows of it. it’s pretty damn obvious when ross likes someone; he goes mostly out of his way to make sure that they’re comfortable, healthy and happy. two out of thowe three isn’t bad because well, sometimes he and the other two have to make the most of what they’ve got.

what is one of their favorite items?

> his suit (or rather, suits; they’re all identical). it’s made out of a super advanced material that stretches whenever he transforms so he never worries about wrecking them by accident whenever he has to get into fights.
> 
> trottimus, alsmiffy and him saved up a fuckton of money to get him the suits because they were sick of him wrecking his and their wardrobes. t-shirts, shorts, you name it, ross has transformed while wearing it and well, a giant furry beast and clothes that don’t stretch just don’t mix.
> 
> after he wrecked one of trottimus’ t-shirts for the third time (look, it’s easy to forget the full moon sometimes), that just sealed the decision to get him a custom wardrobe at a place catering to people of ross’ kind.


	27. anatomy of a shield (the bee)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/127702387144/anatomy-of-a-shield-behold-my-hastily-labelled)

[shields](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/127702387144/anatomy-of-a-shield-behold-my-hastily-labelled) are composed of five (technically six) parts:

  * body
  * capacitor
  * material
  * battery
  * accessory
  * shield core (not labelled since it’s smack bang in the middle)



like guns, each manufacturer has a very distinct style to their own parts. it’s particularly rare to find a shield that’s 100% composed of parts from a single manufacturer. each particular manufacturer part has pros and cons (e.g. recharge delay, capacity) and will change the shield’s overall properties. certain manufacturers also only produce certain shield types (e.g. amplify, nova).

shields are not 100% indestructible since it’s possible to extract the shield cores by tossing them through a grinder and extracting the cores. in the process of applying extreme physical forces to do so, it destroys every other part while leaving the core intact. this happens in borderlands 2 during a side mission at overlook; as such, it’s not a long stretch to assume that shields do break eventually with prolonged use or have a certain lifespan when not being used.

and if shields break, the corporations will want you buy another shield to replace it and in doing so, repeating the cycle! it’s pretty clever strategy but considering the amount of hazards in the borderlands universe, it shouldn’t be surprising that the main selling points outweighs not contributing to the cycle.

unless you’re rythian or nilesy because the two just appear to get by with a lack of a shield  _somehow_.


	28. anatomy of an smg (the bane)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/129227228050/anatomy-of-an-smg-similar-to-shields-smgs-come)

similar to [shields](http://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/127702387144/anatomy-of-a-shield-behold-my-hastily-labelled), smgs come with five (or occasionally six including accessory, if one is present) parts:

  * barrel
  * body
  * stock
  * grip
  * sights
  * accessory



this particular version of the bane comes with a blade and shock elemental damage. if you’ve never heard the bane speak, head on over to [this video](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2FFVQIAUO95oQ&t=ZjdkNzA0MWQzNjJkOWQzYWM0ODVjODg4NGIwNGZkYjAxOGQ4NzE2NixRa2VacTFMYw%3D%3D&b=t%3AgdWBvoObiys_376Etn3eVA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fborderlandscast.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F129227228050%2Fanatomy-of-an-smg-similar-to-shields-smgs-come&m=0) (warning for volume) and become  _enlightened._

[talking](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2F3jxGRG-h2U8%3Ft%3D2m23s&t=OWM5OGYwYWM5NDY5YzliOTlkMmFhMTk1MmQwODJkNTAxMmZiNzM1MCxRa2VacTFMYw%3D%3D&b=t%3AgdWBvoObiys_376Etn3eVA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fborderlandscast.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F129227228050%2Fanatomy-of-an-smg-similar-to-shields-smgs-come&m=0) [guns](http://thepompouspickle.tumblr.com/post/114344662639/indymirai-this-gun-makes-me-uncomfortable) (and shields) exist in borderlands and they’re one of the best additions to the borderlands games; provided that you can stand them long enough to make proper use of them without wanting to toss them off a cliff (as rythian, nanosounds and will strife will want to do in regards to the bane lalna now owns).

i regret that there’s not more of them to go around because you would think they would catch on pretty fast considering how lonely it gets in the wilderness but OH WELL.

anyway, this bane comes with a hyperion body which is the only hyperion part. the only dahl part is the barrel. the stock and grip are tediore. the accessory doesn’t have a manufacturer to it. there’s no sight attachment that, as far as i can tell, isn’t signature of any known manufacturer on this version of the bane so i left it out on the diagram.

i will probably end up doing more of these gun analyses because i actually really enjoying showing off how much of a nerd i am in regards to guns in borderlands.

the other thing about the bane is that if you ignore the screaming and how slow the bane makes you when you’re holding it, the bane is actually not a half-bad gun to use in certain circumstances ( _especially_  when you want to annoy someone and are just begging to get punched in the face).


	29. anatomy of a sniper rifle (godfinger)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/134903143929/anatomy-of-a-sniper-rifle-this-particular-sniper)

> anatomy of a sniper rifle.

this particular sniper rifle is in teep’s possession. they bought it off the ECHOnet on a whim. they would have bought a vintage atlas sniper rifle BUT SOMEBODY beat them to it. this was back when they were still working in the inner worlds and had like over a million dollars saved up since they bought nothing but the bare necessities (and video games).

nowadays, teep doesn’t take up contracts unless absolutely necessary. all the money they earn then goes directly to zoeya to buy her stuff (e.g. research equipment, ECHOnet show passes, snacks) or else it just sits there being useless in teep’s inventory because teep’s completely lost interest in hoarding guns and video games.

no matter how many times zoeya pays teep (whether at the crack of dawn or in the middle of the night), the money somehow mysteriously ends up back in her account again or on her work table at some point.

back to sniper rifles. sniper rifles have six parts:

  * barrel
  * grip
  * stock
  * body
  * scope
  * accessory



each manufacturer has a distinct design and overall effect on the sniper rifle. each manufacturer also has a signature ‘firing’ effect that’s also present in these guns. hyperion rifles tend to be slow in terms of firing rate, but they become accurate over time (patience is a virtue when using hyperion brand sniper rifles and a steady aim). 

maliwan always come in an elemental flavor and are pretty average across the board. valdof and dahl tend to be more on the high firing end of things but their accuracy tends to suffer as a result. they also tend to eat up ammo compared to the other brands.

the jakobs brand doesn’t come with any elemental damage effects at all. HOWEVER, what it lacks in bullet capacity while possessing intense recoil, slow reload rate and firing speed, it makes up for in pure damage output per shot. jakobs sniper rifles tend to have the highest overall damage out of all the brands.

while sniper rifles are expected to be used from a distance, ‘tumtum godfinger’ is unusual because it directly benefits from distance. sniper rifles usually do a fixed amount of damage per shot. for ‘godfinger’, the further the shooter is from their target, the more damage the bullets fired do. 

this trait, coupled with the sniper rifle’s 180% increase to critical hit damage and the bee shield, makes it extremely overpowered from afar. so it’s not surprising that this is teep’s favourite used sniper rifle.

rythian is a little jealous of it, ngl.


	30. anatomy of a pistol (hornet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/135245127159/anatomy-of-a-pistol-you-might-recognize-this)

> anatomy of a pistol.

you might recognize this pistol from ‘this town ain’t big enough for the two of us’. i mentioned in that fic that it’s been a long time since zylus used it and there’s several reasons for that. 

the first is that zylus prefers more offensive and hard-hitting weaponry (especially rocket launchers). the second is that this pistol does corrosive damage. it’s a useful thing to have in certain situations e.g. melting a lock or aiming to be particularly mean to someone, battle against armoured enemies while in other situations, such as fighting shielded enemies, corrosive damage just doesn’t cut it.

the last reason is that this pistol was a gift from daltos. which just makes that last scene a lot more  _sad_  if you reread while keeping that last fact in mind. zylus thought he’d forgotten that pistol was a gift but daltos has a knack for remembering the smallest details (which he’s also demonstrated several times).

anyways. pistols have five parts:

  * barrel
  * grip
  * scope
  * accessory
  * body



dahl weaponry fires in bursts if the trigger is pulled while you’re looking down the scope/sights. this is not handy for sniper rifles made by dahl (unless you’re aiming at a large target or are simply using it as an semi-automatic weapon in lieu of switching to something else more appropriate). on other weapons, such as smgs, assault rifles or pistols, it’s dead useful.

i couldn’t see any accessory on this version of ‘hornet’, so that’s why there’s nothing labelled on the diagram in regards to that. ‘hornet’ is also a legendary grade pistol. its special effect consists of guaranteed corrosive damage and firing in a six round burst when aiming down the sights.

on top of that, the splash damage by the shots produces a small explosion, which can lead to collateral damage. you can imagine how it went down in the firing range when zylus first tested this pistol after being gifted it (aside from laughing hysterically and going ‘WTF’).

 ~~yes, daltos is a massive troll~~.


	31. anatomy of an smg (emperor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/139045496539/anatomy-of-an-smg-this-is-the-second-smg-ive)

> anatomy of an smg.

this is the second smg i’ve analysed so i won’t go into listing parts. instead, LET’S TALK ABOUT weapon quality, rarity and testing as well the backstory behind this smg that’s in daltos’ possession.

there are several levels that indicate how rare an item is (which has an effect on the quality). the easiest method of determining the rarity of a gun is the colored marker that appears on the gun once it’s dropped onto the ground or once it appears in one’s inventory. huds will generally automatically code weapons by color.

rule of thumb is that the higher we go up the rarity ladder, the better the quality, traits and so forth of a weapon (again, there are exceptions).

the rarity levels are:

  * white (common)
  * green (uncommon)
  * blue (rare)
  * purple (very rare)
  * orange (legendary)
  * pink (seraph)
  * cyan (pearlescent)



the acronym used in the game to remember the first five levels is ‘When Grandma Burps, Patrick Obeys’. this rule of color-coded rarity can also be applied to shields.

experimental legendaries made by dahl are shipped out to warships for field testing. if the weapon performs exceptionally well, then they go ahead and produce more copies but the associated costs means that there aren’t a lot of copies made despite that decision. gun collectors particularly covet legendaries that are out of production or there’s only been a limited run to begin with.

the story behind ‘stoic emperor’ is that daltos tested the smg on the frigate at the firing range. now, ‘stoic emperor’ has a low firing rate, but what it lacks in that, it makes up for in magazine size, burst firing, pure damage output and its ridiculously fast ability to recover from dahl’s innate shitty accuracy. firing in bursts also means that one has to reload sooner than expected.

it’s a difficult gun to handle if one is used to expecting more from dahl weapons. ‘emperor’ also requires more user input to stay on the target, even more so to score critical hits while firing (especially for moving targets). in any case, daltos found that he really, really  _liked_  the smg.

now, testing protocol dictates that once weapons are done being tested in the firing range, they have to be returned. testers can submit a manufacture request for the weapon along with the submitted report. it can take  _months_ for the request to be approved.

what daltos instead did was walk out of the firing range with said gun.

it has been in his possession ever since. did zylus attempt to get him to return the gun? yes. did daltos in fact, steal another gun and gift it to zylus as a bribe to stay silent? yes.

and that’s the story of how daltos got ‘stoic emperor’.


	32. anatomy of a shield (whisky tango foxtrot)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/139476688754/anatomy-of-a-shield-we-covered-the-parts-that)

> anatomy of a shield.

we covered the parts that comprise a shield already so i’ll skip that and jump straight into this shield. like guns, the manufacturer has an effect on what the shield’s ability and and traits. there’s a complete list on all the types of shields over [here](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fborderlands.wikia.com%2Fwiki%2FShield%23Manufacturer&t=OWRhOTVlOWExYTBkMGFlN2ExOTI3ZTFkNzY1YTQzMGM2MWVlYWJhYyx0MElyMFpHSQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AgdWBvoObiys_376Etn3eVA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fborderlandscast.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F139476688754%2Fanatomy-of-a-shield-we-covered-the-parts-that&m=0) on the wiki.

the shield we’re looking at this time is ‘whisky foxtrot tango’ (which i like to abbreviate as the WTF shield). WTF is a booster shield which means that it has a chance of spitting out these tiny modules (aka, boosters) if you’re hit. boosters can be picked up to replenish your shield charge without having to wait for your shield to regenerate.

now, normal booster shields just spit out the boosters that don’t do anything; they just sit there, waiting to be picked up. the better the booster shield, the higher the chance of boosters being spat out. generally, the higher we go up the rarity ladder, the better the chances.

the WTF shield is unusual in that there is an obnoxiously high chance of it spawning multiple boosters. the special ability of this shield (given that it’s a legendary) is that the boosters do shock damage to anybody in the vicinity of those boosters. your team members can run through the lightning just fine but you and any enemy?  _rip_.

this is the reason why zylus doesn’t wear this shield when he’s at t-bone junction; he has come close to electrocuting himself and bebopvox (if they’re occupying any loaders at the time) whenever he accidentally damages himself and the WTF shield decides to unleash its deadly cargo. good thing he and bebopvox have fast reflexes so they can dive/boost out of the way.

why would he keep a shield that could possibly kill him? it’s the highest capacity shield he owns. also, good shields are hard to come by on pandora so zylus hasn’t bothered switching it out for a different shield.

in conclusion, it takes one person and several lightning boosters to tango, apparently (many thanks to doublearrows for this amazing joke).

contrary to what you might think, the WTF shield was not a gift from daltos. 


	33. guide: digistruct technology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/120161305701/guide-digistruct-technology)

Congratulations on owning your very own digistruct module! Our patented technology allows you to digistruct whatever and whenever you desire in three easy steps!

**First things first, your module pack should include:**

  * **Customization kit** , which allows you to modify the size, shape and configuration of panels with the help of our simple D.I.Y. ECHOnet guides and knowledgeable A.I. on all hours online support! Your kit also allows you to replace your battery if needed.
  * **Solar charging panel,** as denoted by light blue to cyan color, which can be customized to sit anywhere on your person! It can be linked to power any device that’s capable of supporting digistruct technology so that all you need to do is literally press a button and presto, your new sports car is ready to rumble! Crashed it? No worries, so long as you have the digital blueprint and enough battery charge, you’ll be able to spawn a brand new one! It’s as if you’ve never crashed it at all! We are not liable for any personal, belongings, pet, companion, vehicle or property damage caused directly or indirectly from incorrect use or abuse of digistruct technology due to user actions, choices and behaviors.
  * **Spare digistruct panel** , which allows you to digistruct your blueprints of choice! Your primary digistruct module panel by default, is embedded in your solar charging panel. However, you can choose to turn this off and transfer digistruct instructions to the spare panel! Have too many panels? Name them or reorder them in priority or link to another module via our HUD app. For example, want to look much cooler by tossing your new car out of your wrist watch rather than pressing a button? Just use the customization kit to cut your spare panel down to size and attach to your watch! Follow our help guide to successfully link digistruct panels. Visit our gallery to see what others have managed to create!
  * **One spare solar powered battery** , as specified with your order, intended as a replacement for when the original battery runs out. If we’ve sent you the wrong battery size, please see our help page about returning and obtaining a replacement or contact customer support during business hours. Please see our ECHOnet help guides for troubleshooting or replacing your battery. We do not allow product returns or refunds caused by jail breaking, unusual customizations, explosions causing excessive wear and tear, saturation with bodily fluids, bullet holes, wildlife or elemental damage since it voids the warranty. This includes other parts (including the module itself) included as part of this pack.
  * **Free yearly subscription with 150TB of cloud storage.**  Access, edit, upload and store as many blueprints as you like, thanks to our dedicated cloud hosting service and servers! Please note that standard planetary timezone differences may mean your subscription may or may not last longer on some planets. Please consult customer support if you require help in calculating conversion of subscriptions to your planet’s standard yearly unit. Subscriptions can be paid by deduction from credit card, bank account or through redeeming prepaid cards. If your credit has run out, please note that your module will no longer utilize cloud services to host blueprints and will primarily use the blueprints stored in the primary module. You will also no longer be able to edit, upload or download blueprints to the cloud service though you can still do so the primary module via your HUD.
  * **Calibration sample** , which allows you to scan and store your very first blueprint for digistruct module calibration! You can choose to scan using our HUD app or visit your nearest scanning station to do so.



Once you’ve followed our user friendly guides to set up and link your digistruct module, there’s only three steps left to get your module working!

**Steps**

  * **Step 1: Scanning**



> Set your calibration sample on a level surface and use our HUD app to scan it. If you’d like to scan something else that exceeds HUD app scanning sensor parameters, please drop by your nearest scanning station to scan your item of choice instead! The scan will consume the item of choice as it renders it into our trademark digital format (denoted by  **.digi** ). You may then choose to name and upload it to our cloud service or save it to your primary module via your HUD.

  * **Step 2: Customize**



> You can choose to customize  **how** and  **when** you’d like your module to recognize when you want to digistruct. This can be through recording a gesture and linking it to the file or modifying the permissions via your HUD to activate only on verbal demand or if you really want to, through both! You can also choose  **where** you’d like to digistruct from, such as from your primary or secondary panel or module! Experiment and see what works for you!

  * **Step 3: Digistruct**



> Simply trigger the module as you specified in  **Step 2** and your module should start digistructing! That’s how easy it is!

**User reviews**

**Sips (1 star)** : The instructions weren’t clear enough. I got my dick got caught in the ceiling fan.

> _This review has been upvoted 347578 times.  
>  _ _This review was upvoted by user **Sjin**._

**Lalna (1 star)** : if i could give this guide 0 stars, i would but i can’t do that so i’ll just say this; i have better guides over [here](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fuser%2FYogscastlalna&t=MDdkZWE1YjY2ZWMxNzNlNDNmYzFiYmY3M2Y2MWQ0MGQ4ZTIzOTU1MCxHc1BIV2lTbA%3D%3D&b=t%3AgdWBvoObiys_376Etn3eVA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fborderlandscast.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F120161305701%2Fguide-digistruct-technology&m=0), please upvote, like and follow <3 <3 <3

> _This review has been upvoted 190767 times.  
>  _ __This review has been downvoted 2375 times.  
>  _ _ ___This review has been upvoted by users **Will Strife** , **Xephos** and  **Lomadia**._  _ _

**alsmiffy (1 star)** : I LOST HALF OF MY HAND OF TRUTH FIGURINE DUE TO THE APP CRASHING MIDWAY HOW I GET IT BACK???

> _This review has been upvoted 24551 times.  
>  _ __This review has been upvoted by users **djh3max** and  **Trottimus**._ _

**djh3max (1 star)** : EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT  EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT…

> _This review has been upvoted 11566 times.  
>  __This review has been downvoted 3948 times.  
>  __The rest of this_ _review has been compressed due to exceeding the character limit.  
>  __This review has been flagged for profanity and spam by user_ **Trottimus**.

**Zoeya (5 stars)** : My module got eaten by a stalker and the stalker was fine so I’m going to rate five stars because your products aren’t harmful to an animal’s digestive systems!  **User** **Edit:** In response to many, many, many interested queries, my module was a little bit sticky for a few days but it’s still working fine!

> _This review has been upvoted 18571 times.  
>  _ __This review has been upvoted by user **Lomadia**._ _

  * **Review reply** : It’s also good as an emergency hammer for when you’re putting together your bar stool after some bastard broke it over his mate’s head for losing trivia night by one point and when your hammer’s MIA. - **Ravs**



> _This reply has been upvoted 856 times._

  * **Reply** :That was fucking amazing. -  **Strippin**
  * **Reply** : Trivia nights at Ravs’ bar are not to be missed because of stuff like this happening all the time. - **KingBendrick**



**Nilesy (5 stars)** : Just going to point that one of the only places left on Pandora (aside from going through dead people’s belongings if that’s your thing) that consistently stocks these are located in Oasis at the general goods shop. Drop by for a complimentary glass of water and enjoy the local sights!

> _This review has been upvoted 9878 times.  
>  _ __This review has been downvoted 1 times.  
>  _ _ __This review has been downvoted by user **Ravs**._  _

**KingBendrick (5 stars)** : If any of you guys still don’t understand how to put together your module, drop by the Dust and look for ‘Rail Bros.’ sign, we’ll help you out for super cheap!

> _This review has been upvoted 567 times.  
>  _ _This review has been downvoted 4 times.  
>  _ _This review has been upvoted by users_ _**Strippin** _ _and_ _**Trottimus**._

  * **Review reply:** If you’re thinking of throwing skag guts at our place, we have several hidden turrets and some guns with your names on it. - **Strippin**



> _This reply has been upvoted 2 times.  
>  _ _This reply has been upvoted by users **KingBendrick** _and **Honeydew**.__

**Nanosounds (5 stars)** : You can actually digistruct the calibration sample as many times as you want (charge withstanding) and use it as a miniature projectile for throwing it at other people! Especially if they’re being annoying.

> _This review has been upvoted 545 times.  
>  __This review has been downvoted 2 times.  
>  __This review has been upvoted by users **Rythian** and  **alsmiffy.  
>  **__This review has been downvoted by user_ **Lalna.  
>  ****New!** This review has been downvoted byuser **Trottimus.**

  * **Review reply** : She’s not joking. It really hurts!  **\- Lalna**




	34. guide: cybernetic eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/141716506244/guide-cybernetic-eyes)

**installation, removal and maintenance**

the initial installation of the cybernetic eye requires it to be connected to the optic nerve located at the back of the eye socket. this can be done using nanobots that come as part of the eye. these nanobots repair, regenerate (in some cases) and reconnect the severed optic nerve head up to the rest of the nerve (that links up to the occipital lobe in the brain).

these nanobots are also responsible for any upkeep and modification of the eye. they can persist for an entire person’s lifetime. that is, unless the person has the eye removed or replaced; the nanobots can also perform a disconnect if the eye has to be removed for any reason.

just like removing any technological device with a connection, it’s always advisable to disconnect it first before actually physically taking it out. there’s a failsafe where the nanobots immediately disconnect in the case of unexpected removal but it’s always advised to do it the safe way.

the installation process itself is relatively painless (in theory). eyes that are newly installed can be a bit sensitive at first while the nerve is repaired, restored and reconnected. the process has been refined so there’s 99.9999999999% of no errors happening. of course, that leaves the tiniest amount of risk but DON’T WORRY ABOUT THAT.

all eyes are manufactured following a default template, so eyes have to be tailored according to a user’s preference to get the right visual acuity or else you’d end up experiencing zylus’ problem: even though he has an eye that he can see out of, he’s drastically short-sighted in it. this is what the calibration step is for.

the calibration process is done via a tool that programs the nanobots to customize the eye based on the user’s preference. it’s a lot like taking a vision test (is this too blurry, too sharp, etc.). the pain varies since the nanobots may need to finetune the connection between the optic nerve head, the optic nerve, the rest of the components in the eye and the structure.

performing calibrations is recommended every six months to maintain optimal performance, though if left alone, the nanobots can basically take care of any housekeeping. however, they can’t do any calibrations or major changes without a tool since that tool tells precisely them what to do. these nanobots are smart but not  _that_ smart. to prevent people performing any illegal or unapproved modifications, the nanobots undo any such changes. this doesn’t stop people from trying, though.

the internal battery can last forever. think a lithium powered battery. now imagine it’s a million times better and smaller than a mm, weighs even less than a single strand of hair. that’s how tiny, light and powerful the battery is. it’s located along the wall in the cavity where the vitreous humor would be.

the hardware and internal components of eyes can be switched out or upgraded at any time. like any piece of technology, it depends on whether or not the bits are compatible and modern enough in the first place. the calibration tool can generally be used for this purpose as well. only the most tech-savvy of people bother; most people just prefer to settle for replacements rather than upgrades (it’s less expensive and tedious, for starters).

the software itself comes as part of the eye. patches and hotfixes are downloaded via one’s echonet connection and hud. otherwise, the software automatically updates itself in the background. it’s very non-intrusive.

**anshin, production and where to get them**

the number one and go-to manufacturer of cybernetic eyes is anshin. anshin produces shields, transfusion grenade mods, the obnoxiously expensive health syringes and the quick change stations so it sort of makes sense that they’d produce medical equipment and devices as well. cybernetic eyes fall under both categories.

while anshin is the number one corporation and boasting the highest amount of eyes made and sold per colonized planets, other corporations (e.g. hyperion, dahl) also produce their own versions. anshin was smart and got their patent in first, so the other corporations have to defer to anshin if they want to use the basic template/design. or else LAWSUITS. that is, until the patent expires (in say, 500 years or so since anshin is an asshole like that) and then it’s pretty much free for all.

anshin chooses to keep the manufacturing recipe and programming for the nanobots a corporate secret; most corporations are still trying to reverse engineer their own versions from anshin’s.

most corporations opt to substitute their own technology for the rest of the components instead of using anshin technology, as per what is specified in the license and restrictions anshin imposes.

production of eyes occurs in certified medical manufacturing facilities on the planets anshin has a particularly strong presence on or risk sabotage from other corporations. so far, anshin is still the leading manufacturer and seller, while hyperion and dahl lag behind slightly, along with smaller companies such as tediore.

every pair of eyes undergo a rigorous series of basic tests before they are cleared to be shipped out. anshin prides itself on the quality of its products, since we’re talking about medical devices here. out of each batch, a random series of eyes are chosen to be tested more stringently (e.g. how do they hold up in water, against debris, pressure, customisation, bugs, any potential hardware malfunctions).

once the testing of these random ones is completed without a single error and pass the checks, the batch can be released. if not, the entire batch is scrapped if it doesn’t clear retesting.

hospitals and optometrists are the default sellers of cybernetic eyes. each pair of eyes come with a warranty that is airtight. health insurance generally covers the first round of replacements and initial installation plus removal of the original eyes. after that, you’re on your own if you accidentally bust one or both eyes due to shit happening.

that said, getting those eyes are not cheap. the more expensive and advanced the model, the higher the costs. even then, a cheap pair like the ones produced by tediore can still rack up hefty fees.

you can technically install the eyes at home but health insurance and warranty do not cover any incidents resulting from that decision (e.g. cat stole your eye and won’t give it back? too bad).

also, it’s advisable to go to a hospital to get your organic eye/s removed prior to getting cybernetic ones installed. unless you’re confident you can do that at home as well.

nobody ever sells secondhand eyes (because that is just _gross_ ). that is, unless you know where to look and you’re dead certain that it’s been cleaned and reset. ah yes, the hazards of buying secondhand. don’t ask about how they obtained said eyes either. this is often the case on backwater planets.

**classes, customisation and functions**

cybernetic eyes come in varying classes, makes and models, depending on what a person needs and wants! just like glasses and clothes.

some examples:

  * echo eyes are a particular subclass of cybernetic eyes. they’re frequently found in corporate environments but often crop up in unexpected places. they’re surprisingly popular amongst go-getters and those with ambition or those who want secret dirt on other people. it’s not known if hyperion is the original producer of these or if anshin is. the two are still battling out that one in the courts.
  * military or mercenary grade eyes are more specialised to last under combat conditions; their repair ability is significantly boosted, as well as having a broader range of functions (e.g. marking teammates, tracking enemies, radar, enhanced overall vision, sharing visual feed with others in same party, ammo and shield charge tracking), shock damage resistance and have a tougher make. they come with a transparent film resembling that of nictating membrane found in animals (e.g. sharks, birds, reptiles). the ‘membrane’ automatically cleans the eye of foreign gunk, liquids and debris during blinking or sleep. in return, these eyes require more maintenance than other kinds, with the ‘membrane’ requiring eventual replacement.
  * medical grade eyes link into a hospital’s network to pull up basic patient profiles on the spot in less than a second. they can also view a person’s basic medical information and condition at a glance (e.g. heart rate, temperature, any implants). these eyes have enhanced zoom and vision to seek out fine details during operations and work. you get the idea. they’re still revising the privacy laws on that one.



by default, all cybernetic eyes are able to wirelessly connect to one’s personal ECHO device, HUD and digistruct modules. this step has to be performed with every replacement pair of eyes.

eyes also come with different types of vision (e.g. heat, night, x-ray) and a basic set of functions (e.g. camera, map, compass, hud support).

most people opt to have only one eye removed to restrict the overlay to said eye. it’s particularly rare to find people who have opted to replace both eyes. it’s also more expensive to have both eyes removed and replaced rather than just one eye.

since cybernetic eyes are sold in pairs, if only one eye is removed and replaced, the other is usually kept as a replacement and backup. unless of course, you’re visiting a shady secondhand vendor. they often have specials, no questions asked and no answers given! yep.

by default, the irises of cybernetic eyes are colored a vivid, electric blue and glow. people can change them to be different colors, shapes or not glow at all. every customization you can think of, it can probably be done either in one’s HUD or at a quick change station (the preferred method for more detailed customizations).

if a person wants to hide that they have cybernetic eyes, they can do so. it’s virtually impossible to tell if somebody has them at a glance. it’s pretty obvious if they do have them, if their settings haven’t been changed. 

getting eyes replaced is a pretty standard medical procedure so there’s next to no stigma about having them in the first place. the same cannot be said for personal issues regarding them.

**characters with cybernetic eyes**

in this au, nobody has bothered yet to customize their eyes (that is, change the iris color). that is, anybody who is still alive.

**rythian:**

  * had both of his eyes removed and replaced due to a family history of genetically inherited blindness (in the retinas). he knew he was going to go blind at some point but not when. his cybernetic eyes are a way of getting around that. he’s not the first in his family to opt to go that route.
  * he’s on his second pair; the specific model and make is now out of production. they’re also out of date since newer models have been released in the meantime. it’s a testament to anshin’s quality that his eyes are still functioning after years in less than ideal conditions and a harsh environment, plus something else (see the very last dot point).
  * he got his first pair of eyes when he was in his teens, a month after he got the results of the genetic testing back (starting to go blind by twenty-five, at earliest estimation). he’s never regretted that decision. it’s one of the few decisions he’s never regretted in his life, come to think of it.
  * his second pair were a graduation gift from his family. they saved up in order to get him them in time for his graduation. they’re also an apology for constantly arguing with him about his choice in career, on top of belittling it and he stopped speaking to them as a result for about four to five years while he was at uni.
  * his class of eyes are a pair optimised for scientific field work. not quite military grade but close enough. better than civilian classed eyes.
  * he skips out on eye calibrations since he’s of the opinion he doesn’t need them (that’s what the nanobots are for, right?). if they work just fine, there’s no need to tamper with them any more than he has to.



**zylus:**

  * he lost his right eye due to 8-ball hyphema (do  _not_  google this unless you’re prepared for eye horror).
  * he injured his eye due to the rising pressure from a concussion he got during the dahl frigate’s crash landing. the scar across his eye was from being shot by daltos. it got infected, hampering the process of recovery and the later removal.
  * the accompanying, excruciating pain and lack of vision from the pressure rising in his damaged eye got to the point that zylus had his eye removed by the first quack doctor he could find.
  * it’s kind of morbid but he actually still has his eye, the one that got removed, that is. it sits in a glass bottle, submerged in a shady mixture of a preservative (formaldehyde? anti-freeze? he was in too much pain to remember what the quack was saying, at the time). the bottle sits in his inventory alongside his two standard dahl uniforms, his university degree in aerospace engineering, the ‘react hornet’ pistol and dog tags, under the category of ‘stuff he doesn’t want to look at, ever’.
  * the quack seemed disappointed that he wanted to keep it rather than handing it over so they could ‘dispose’ of. they’d looked at the bottle containing his eye with something approximating ‘hunger’.
  * he went around with an empty eye socket for a couple of months (it felt longer, to him). he eventually got hold of a cybernetic eye and against his better judgement, since doctors are rare on pandora, returned to the same quack to install it.
  * since the removal of his eye was botched, the installation was excruciatingly painful as the nanobots did their repair and restore thing.
  * on the second visit, the quack was rather insistent about removing his other, perfectly functional eye. zylus noped out of there pretty fast. he didn’t even stay for the calibration step. he’s terrified of replacing or calibrating his eye because of this experience.
  * he commissioned his two monocles from one of the people living in t-bone junction, an old, almost blind man with no teeth who somehow managed to run an optometrist place in the middle of a desert.
  * funny story, actually. they got off on the wrong foot when zylus walked into his shop to ask about maintaining his new eye; the old man didn’t understand why zylus didn’t want to let him do a calibration and zylus can be really,  _really_ stubborn when he wants to be.
  * after zylus set up the security system, the old man defrosted; they used to hang out, fishing, back when t-bone junction’s river still ran underneath it. zylus never caught anything while the old man had a knack for it. for fuck’s sake, the old man is going blind, how the fuck does he still catch fish, they’re even using the same bait and everything! the old man gives him the fish, claiming ‘i got no teeth to eat with anyway, take them, we don’t waste food around here’.
  * said old man was one of the first people who died due to the plague sweeping through t-bone junction. if he hadn’t died, zylus would have let him eventually calibrate his eye since he trusted him.
  * zylus’ class of eye is secondhand, civilian and is likely out of production at this point in time. there’s nothing too special about it. he does have a few replacements taken from the old man’s shop but he’s too nervous replacing his own bunk eye with them, even if he also has a calibration tool he found when going through the old man’s belongings.



**xephos**

  * they had perfectly good eyes that they replaced since they felt it’d be advantageous to have a set of cybernetic eyes.
  * they got theirs in the first year of university, going back and forth between the decision.
  * it took them three months to decide on the most practical and yet, advanced model (at the time) and after saving up, being a cheapskate and skimping out on stuff (like their favourite magazine subscriptions, food, brand new-textbooks, clothes, that sort of thing).
  * they canceled the hospital appointment about three times before they braced themselves and decided to go for it (with the moral support of honeydew, their new best friend that they met during a business course).
  * they passed out in the chair at the sight of the needle but woke up in the recovery ward with their brand new eyes. it was one of the happiest days in their life.
  * honeydew later admitted that the hospital staff installed the eyes straightaway without any anaesthetic when xephos didn’t respond to any prodding, poking or slaps to the face. xephos is extremely horrified until honeydew says, ‘only joking, they jabbed the needle in and went straight to work’. this did not serve to reassure xephos one bit.
  * their class of eyes are more geared for technologically advanced work (e.g. supports overlays, wireless connections to monitors and other devices, minimal and transparent hud, tool tracking, screen sharing, image enhancing, keyboard support, inbox linking).
  * they’re still on their first pair of eyes since they calibrate their eyes almost religiously (exactly every six months). at the first sign of trouble, they’re usually on the echonet, browsing the forums and looking up troubleshooting guides.
  * at the moment, they are looking into a potential upgrade, provided they can find a suitable doctor to help them out.



**hybridpanda:**

  * their left eye was initially replaced due to falling on top of a pencil which went straight through said eye. this is why you don’t run with a pencil. ouch. luckily it didn’t go any further than the vitreous humor.
  * saberial and panda’s mother saw the entire thing happen. saberial never lets panda live it down if they try to make up a cool story about how they lost their eye. it happened when panda was about thirteen years old or so.
  * they’re on their eighth eye, given the hazardous nature of their work as a bounty hunter and mercenary.
  * their class of eye is the best one money can buy of the military and mercenary grade kind.
  * panda has learned to keep their left eye covered when it’s not in use; it makes people underestimate their aim and it stops gunk from getting stuck in it if panda is getting up close and personal with someone (aka, shotgun to the chest). the nictating ‘membrane’ is good but sometimes it fails to get rid of the bigger chunks.
  * nothing’s worse than having to disconnect your eye and having to fish out a bit of flesh out of your eye socket, clean said eye, wait for said eye to dry and then having to hook up said eye again to everything.
  * panda tends to leave their eye to soak in a glass of water after a mission. for fun, they like to leave said eye in the fridge and surprise saberial. saberial is usually less than pleased (she screams like a banshee and panda has also learned to make themselves scarce because she hits like a goddamned truck).
  * why yes, panda has had their cybernetic ripped out before. in response, panda ripped out both of the offender’s eyes with their bare hands. that is how they got their fourth replacement.
  * all the other times panda got their eye replaced follows the same pattern: violence and lots of it. and one other embarrassing incident they don’t like to talk about (that saberial thankfully doesn’t know about).
  * calibrates their eye daily. is very meticulous about it. they consider their eye a tool in their line of work and know better than to neglect a tool’s maintenance.



that concludes this post! i hope you enjoyed all those. 


	35. guide: ration subscriptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/145852863264/guide-ration-subscriptions)

the main corporation in charge of the ration subscriptions service is dahl. it’s not surprising considering that dahl produces a number of other things, like ammo, ammo crates, weapons and were responsible for the majority of buildings found on Pandora left behind from their stay before the atlas takeover.

while their presence on pandora (and elpis, to an extent) is no longer of any major concern, they still ship guns and such to the planet. ration subscriptions also fall under that same category of imports.

‘ration subscription’ is an umbrella term used for ‘basic necessities needed for survival’ that people on pandora can choose to pay for. they come in yearly (if anybody ever expects to live that long; dahl uses the off-world basis of years rather than pandora’s weird as fuck one to calculate it), monthly or weekly subscriptions. subscriptions can be renewed, canceled or upgraded anytime, as with the tier (aka, grade) of the subscription.

it’s pretty obvious as to which ones people generally opt to afford (i.e., weekly). once someone pays the fee, the package is automatically shipped to someone’s inventory. extra packages can be bought from any decent, well-stocked general store or vending machines.

what’s inside a ration subscription?

generally, the basic items included are:

  * rations. there are several different kinds! we’ll go into that shortly but depending on the tier of the ration subscription, the rations can be delicious, passable or taste like old cardboard. there is usually one week’s worth of rations included per package.
  * sealed bottles of water. usually contain about two weeks worth per package, given that some of it has to be mixed with certain rations for good eating. each bottle is large enough to fill one canteen.
  * mouthwash. it’s basically a liquid toothpaste that can be swished around in the mouth and then spat out. dental hygiene is very important on pandora. using it every couple of days is recommended but it’s not unheard of to do it once a week.
  * little packet wipes (both wet and dry kinds). these won’t replace a shower but it’ll get dirt, grime, blood and whatnot off easily on the spot.
  * a week’s worth of tampons/pads/menstrual cups. there’s also a little biodegradable garbage bag included for easy disposal/collection of used items! did you think this au would skirt around the issue of what happens when people get their periods? YOU’VE COME TO THE WRONG AU IF YOU WERE EXPECTING THAT. these items come for free with every subscription and everybody gets them.  _everybody_. nobody can opt out of getting them due to the package being standardised. if anybody doesn’t want them, they can be discarded, donated or given away or you know, just left to chill in one’s inventory at the expense of space.
    * rythian likes to give his to zoeya or ravs of all people. ravs keeps them around for people who might need them. ravs is not shy about offering them either.
    * daltos and his other lieutenants gives theirs to arsenal (who actually does make use of them and as you’ll soon read, also does not).
      * “stop. I have enough to last me for the next ten years.”
    * arsenal likes to test new recruits by going up to them, staring them right in the eye before sticking a pad on them to see if they react like little shits who are grossed out by a perfectly normal bodily function. if they do react, he kicks them out of the cargo bay.
      * “they’re not going in my unit; they can go in the trash, where bachem’s lot are.”
    * it’s sort of a running joke at this point in the blitzkrieg blighters that having a pad stuck on by arsenal anytime after is a sign of his approval since well, there’s no gold stars to be had. cant once had a bunch stuck on their arms at some point. daltos saw and wonders why arsenal tortures him like this sometimes bc STOP WASTING PERFECTLY GOOD SUPPLIES ON STUPID SHIT LIKE THIS.
    * zylus hoards his. he has an entire storage unit devoted to them. he doesn’t know what to do with them. bebop suggested setting them on fire. zylus said ‘no’.
    * nilesy gives his to lomadia but he also has them in his inventory. just in case, because he’s great like that.
    * parvis gives his out at parties and concerts, no matter how many times sparkes tries to stop him. people seem to enjoy the handouts SO TAKE THAT, SPARKLES.
    * the first time lalna opened his package and saw them, he glanced at rythian and yelled, ‘WHY DO I HAVE THESE IN HERE’ and rythian simply looked at him and sighed, before calmly asking him to hand them over before lalna started to freak out more.
    * nanosounds is only sad they don’t come in more cute patterns.
    * will donates his in every town he visits. same with xephos and honeydew.
    * hatfilms like to use theirs as kindling. alsmiffy is the designated keeper of them. go figures.
    * teep sends all of theirs to hybridpanda. it drives them nuts because there’s no return address. alternatively, teep dumps theirs on zoeya’s desk when she’s not around.
    * hybridpanda gives all of theirs to saberial.
    * strippin and benji once pretended to have a laser fight going ‘pew pew pew’ with the pads stuck on their arms. they keep them so they can do a monthly donation in any town that accepts them.
    * lalnable also hoards them.
      * “THEY ARE VERY USEFUL FOR MOPPING UP BLOOD, OKAY”
    * turps and martyn like to include them as part of the free care packages for people who can’t afford the ration packs.
    * feel free to assume everybody else either donates, throws away or whatnot.
  * packets of lube and condoms (with clear instructions on how to use them). no explanation needed here.
  * water filter and canteen. these are always included with the very first ration subscription for anyone and after that, it’s fairly randomised as to whether or not somebody gets them anytime after. the system isn’t perfect or that generous, okay.
  * batteries. only two are included per package. they are universally compatible with shields and a number of other objects (e.g. flashlights, echo devices, radios). they last for ages, though.
  * one bandaid with the vault symbol (thank you @siins, for your amazing contribution). alternatively, there are ads on the bandaids. e.g. BUY A GUN. other corporations pay dahl millions to fit in their ads on this tiny space. it works. also, why does dahl include only one bandaid? it’s their way of saying ‘we tried but sorry, we’re cheapskates’ in regards to including medical supplies.
  * the exception to the above is emergency birth control. includes five tablets (that do expire, unfortunately). it can be taken up to several days after. while dahl can’t stop people from boning, they at least would like to make it safer (not because they care but preventative measures saves them money in the long run and happier soldiers/folks serve better).
  * matches used to be part of the package but after arson crimes shot up by 80%, dahl decided to withdraw including matches as part of the packages. they settled on including the heating packs instead.
  * heating packs. these are used to heat up meals but people often use them for other purposes (e.g. handwarmers). these are reusable until they no longer produce heat.
  * disposable plastic razor and a little packet of shaving cream. this is self explanatory.



generally, rations come as bars, in powdered form (they have to be mixed with water and stirred well first), can be liquified (think protein shake), canned (e.g. ravioli, stew) or as ready to eat meals (these require the heating packs). every package will include one of each type and generally include plastic eating utensils.

all rations last for ages. they do have an expiry date, though. most rations can tolerate most environmental conditions. most rations are also intended to provide a person an average amount of calories, nutrients and supplements per intake.

dahl doesn’t fuck around when it comes to engineering the fuck out of rations so that they can give them to their troops first and civilians, second. they have an entire department and budget devoted to figuring out the best way to do so.

dahl also doesn’t take into account whether or not their meals are vegetarian or vegan friendly, meat-free, dairy-free or gluten-free so it’s generally advised to check the warnings (this is the fine print stamped on the back of every ration) if one has any allergies or dietary restrictions.

how filling the ration is depends on what it is. for example, a chocolate bar won’t fill up someone but it is nice as a mood lifter, in contrast to say, a pasta meal backed up with bread.

that said, the variety of rations given out in a package are designed to be either eaten as they are or in conjunction with ‘real’ food. what variety of rations in a package is determined by the tier of ration subscription.

these fall into three categories: premium, middle and low-end.

the premium tiers generally have more of a selection, number and variety of rations to choose from. premium ration packages tend to include actual meat (e.g. beef, chicken, pork or veal instead of skag meat, which is cheaper, but not as tasty), condiments, spices, flavor packs and actual greens.

it’s also not unheard of to get actual vitamin supplements as well, as a token of dahl’s goodwill for splurging your hard earned cash on their goods! sadly, they don’t believe in including other bonus items.

the middle tier is what everyone usually goes for; it’s got stuff that tastes pretty decent once one gets used to the taste. there’s less fresh items and less choice to be had as well. skag meat is a staple amongst the rations here.

the low end tier is generally hard to eat since there’s not much of a taste to anything since it’s so cheap but it’ll do if one can’t afford anything better.

this entire guide also serves to highlight the hold of the corporations on Pandora even beyond the six galaxies and long after they’re gone from the planet; people literally have to pay money to afford the basic human rights.

that’s actually pretty fucked up once you really think about it but that’s borderlands for you. i hope you enjoyed this informative guide!


	36. taste in guns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/138081594814/who-do-you-think-has-the-worst-taste-in-gearguns).

_rythian_ -no, i’m joking, jakobs is actually pretty good for vault hunters who have skills that support being a literal bullet hose (e.g. honeydew, will strife). this is actually a pretty tough question; everybody in this au has an inventory that is usually updated after every chapter if they obtain a particularly notable weapon (coughlalnaorhoneydewcough).

the alternative is that they already have said items in their inventory in the first place, back when i was uploading their profiles. if you actually go and check for example, zylus’ inventory or teep’s inventory, the two respectively possessed ‘hornet’, ‘tumtum godfinger’ and ‘the bee’ from the start.

otherwise, everybody’s inventory is usually a giant mess at any given time, unless said person doesn’t have that many weapons in the first place or is organized. or both. 

so it’s more a question, really, of who manages to keep their shit organized in the first place to balance out what they like/prefer or just keep the item/s around because it’s useful. this is in complete contrast to others who just hoard or wildly experiment or are too lazy to sort their stuff out.

in an attempt to answer your question though, the top five people (in no specific order) with the worst taste in gears/guns are:

rythian:

  * i lied, he really does have one of the worst tastes in guns/gear, if that’s not obvious.
  * he doesn’t wear a shield (and let’s be honest, half the people who’ve died in borderlands canon could have been saved by wearing a shield in the first place).
  * 99% of the guns in his inventory are jakobs. if he’s using an elemental weapon or a different brand, teep likely forced him to do so on the basis of having something as a nasty surprise for anybody who might attack him who doesn’t expect rythian to have anything else up his sleeve.



zylus:

  * _have you seen what he uses._  just. rockets. lots and lots of rockets, doesn’t matter what brand (but he does have a preference for torgue and tediore).
  * the upside is that he has good guns in order to heft that thing up out of his inventory and fire it without much of a delay or suffering a fate similar to that of honeydew.
  * in all seriousness, he’s really short-sighted in his right, cybernetic eye since he never got it properly calibrated after he got it installed. the spread of rockets via the resulting explosions and the splash damage is to compensate for the loss in accuracy he suffers due to being so short-sighted due to that eye of his. 
  * yes, i went there.
  * so zylus doesn’t really use guns; he’s a decent enough shooter, but he’d prefer not to miss if he uses bullets. the only exception is that if he’s close enough at point-blank range, then he’s a lot more confident in his aim to switch to guns then.
  * also, who doesn’t love a good explosion.
  * his shield ‘whisky foxtrot tango’ (i should do a post on that thing at some point since it’s, shall we say, _interesting_ ) has a very high chance of electrocuting him due to the shock damage boosters; everybody (that is, anybody in his party at the time) is immune. which is why you see him dodging it in the ‘btb’ fic.
  * the upside is that said shield packs a pretty decent punch and nobody expects a miniature lightning storm from a booster shield. the only downside is that if he so much as gets scratched while wearing it, it’s BOOSTERS AWAY. 
  * at this point, it’s second nature for him to get out of the way once his shield goes off. hence, why he never wears it in t-bone junction because accidents have happened in the past.



turpster and martyn:

  * the two are armed with ‘law’ and ‘order’. not necessarily the best items to be equipped with on pandora, but these two make it work somehow.
  * martyn only has ‘law’ and ‘order’, a pistol and a shield respectively. that’s his entire arsenal. somehow, he’s still alive to this day despite being challenged to a duel over the sheriff position on a daily basis. so, martyn’s quick draw skills are not to underestimated.
  * turps has a slightly wider selection to pick from but if you go and check out his inventory, it’s still a pretty shit selection to choose from in the first place. let’s hope he never gets into an actual gun fight 8)
  * not sure about turp’s quick draw skills, though.



alsmiffy:

  * very, very  _picky_. more so than will strife, rythian and xephos. not so about the brand, thankfully.
  * he also changes his mind at the last minute in regards to guns/gear he’s been using for a while, only to discard it if he sees something better or that looks like fun to test out.
  * it drives ross and trottimus up the wall. constantly, as alsmiffy takes forever to get equipped for any mission since they have a habit of agonizing over their choices during preparations. usually, by the time the other two are ready, alsmiffy is still trying to pick what guns/gear to use. more than once, ross has carried alsmiffy off to a job bc he took too long.
  * said choices always consist of elemental weaponry. alsmiffy’s picks are similar to ross’ tastes, but he prefers those with a nastier kick, like acid or incendiary.
  * just because it’s flashy doesn’t always mean it’s  _good_ , shall we say.
  * lalna gets an honorable mention because he’s just as bad as alsmiffy is; lalna tends to pick up whatever is at hand, test it out and shove it into his inventory but forgets to sell them so his inventory is a complete mess at the beginning/end of every mission.
  * just wait until the two of them discover _lasers_.



anybody who uses bandit weaponry:

  * daltos, parvis, sparkles, ravs, honeydew, strippin, benji (and the list goes on).
  * LARGE MAGAZINES TO MAKE UP FOR SHITTY AIM.
  * no, i’m kidding, in the right hands, bandit made guns can be actually pretty good and if someone’s aim is good in the first place (so that’s everybody but honeydew and parvis, heh).
  * also, bandit guns have the sweetest paint jobs ever. check out [this gallery](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.videogamesartwork.com%2Fgames%2Fborderlands-2%3Fpage%3D6&t=MzMxZDExNTJhZDI2MzhhYjZiNzNkMzcwYjU4Njk2NjM3MmY2MjVkYyxNSlpiY2dXcw%3D%3D&b=t%3AgdWBvoObiys_376Etn3eVA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fborderlandscast.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F138081594814%2Fwho-do-you-think-has-the-worst-taste-in-gearguns&m=0) of concept art on bandit-made guns because the mental image of bandits sitting down and taking the time to give their guns custom paint jobs is sort of adorable. and terrifying. they also make for sweet trophies (as the seven people listed above can testify).



runner ups are teep and zoeya. teep would have qualified but their overpowered sharpshooting skills basically balances out the fact that they use only pistols and sniper rifles. give teep any other type of gun and teep will just dismantle it and sell it for parts (or keep the parts to make something new out of them).

zoeya actually does have weapons; cryo specific ones. cryo is actually lethal once someone is frozen; they can be smashed into little pieces if sufficient force is applied or be left to thaw out. she prefers to let teep, rythian or ravs do the former since well, it’s technically not her doing the killing then. so don’t mess with zoeya.

i wouldn’t call her taste in guns/gear the worst so that’s why she’s not in the top five above but i thought it’d be interesting to mention that she prefers a non-lethal approach (from her perspective) while on pandora.

everybody else is pretty decently equipped but it’s a matter of personal taste when it comes down to the individual character since they all think they have the best guns and gear that money/looting dead bodies/stealing can get them. thanks for your ask and i hope that answered your question! 


	37. lalna's prosthetic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/133191421639/hello-there-ive-just-finished-reading-iou-one).

first of all, the arm is connected to lalna’s shoulder by ways of a similar looking mechanical socket that also forms his shoulder. the incident in which he lost his arm also took a chunk out of his shoulder 8(

lalna’s arm actually changes over the course of ‘the last vault hunter’, starting from chapter seven. i’d say that lalna changes his arm roughly four times throughout the series. the first (and original) iteration of lalna’s arm was initially more clunkier, blockier and originally covered with faux skin at some point but lalna eventually pried all of it off, took out everything that wasn’t necessary so he could fiddle with it so that it appears exactly as it is in his [full body reference](http://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/123609541414/siins-probably-a-part-one-of-the-character) picture. 

his second arm is what lalnable provides him with in ‘i.o.u. a new arm’. it’s what lalna’s currently equipped with right now (as per the above picture). it’s not all that different to his first arm. the only changes are that it’s more modern, responsive, sleeker and more metallic. lalna of course, insisted he strip the entire thing down so he could modify it to his heart’s content (on top of voiding the warranty and infuriating lalnable in the process BC THAT WAS A PERFECTLY GOOD ARM, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT).

from thereon, lalna keeps making little tweaks and modifications to it, adding, changing and taking away stuff. there’s also the difficulty of obtaining parts if he fucks up, so lalna tends to wing repairs and modifications so that contributes to his arm’s constantly changing appearance as well.

it also doesn’t help that he’s constantly roughing it in the wild so maintenance (if he neglected it before) is now part of his daily routine. strife gives him a helping ‘hand’ 8)))

as per [his skill trees](http://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/125166693119/love-this-still-sort-of-a-new-fan-so-you-might), he’ll eventually be able to do some rather nifty things with his robotic arm! this unfortunately includes setting himself on fire with [prototypes](http://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/125173645299/final-skill-rocket-punch-yes-rocket-punch).


	38. larry robert the robot loader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/128991025194/heya-friends-thanks-for-always-being-so)

So [Hyperion loaders](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fvignette2.wikia.nocookie.net%2Fborderlands%2Fimages%2Fd%2Fd9%2FGUN_Loader.png%2Frevision%2Flatest%3Fcb%3D20121010012213&t=YzJjNzM2NDE0MzE5MTJlZjYxMmI0OWIyNDU0ZjZiMGMxNGE5Nzk1ZCw3aFhydTc0MA%3D%3D&b=t%3AgdWBvoObiys_376Etn3eVA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fborderlandscast.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F128991025194%2Fheya-friends-thanks-for-always-being-so&m=0) are a bright yellow and don’t have a lot of leeway in their programming. This makes them pretty easy targets. In comparison, Larry Robert the Loader Robot is bright pink with green stripes and it’s jailbroken so it’s a little more intelligent and functional than its brethren (both in and out of battle).

It is one lean, mean, efficient, killing machine thanks to some extra programs that Lalna loaded onto it (pun not intended). Said programs consist of a basic self-repair module, shield, appropriate combat response procedures when attacked, retreat when ammo is low, etc. The only thing that Lalna can’t protect it against is shock damage but it has a protocol to avoid that wherever possible instead of standing there and taking damage like all the other loaders.

That being said, its personality was accidentally erased during the jailbreaking process, whoops. Lalna hasn’t thought much about what personality he wants to give it if he ever gets around to installing one. For now, it’s a strong, silent, loader bot.

Lalna originally obtained his loader as a means to an end when he was installing electrical shit and eventually went through three prosthetic arms due to electrical shocks continuously shorting out his arm. While his dominant hand is his left hand, fixing a prosthetic arm with only one functional hand is still really tough (only attempt it if you are hardcore or don’t know any better like Lalna).

Like the genius he is, he ‘borrowed’ one of his employer’s many loaders, figuring a loader would be easier and cheaper to fix than his prosthetic arm. His employer probably doesn’t mind because the loaders are digistructed through a constructor (legally acquired from Hyperion through their many connections). And Lalna is actually pretty good at his job (surprise) so he gets to muck around with loaders in his spare time and not get told off.

Larry Robert is the oldest loader that’s been with Lalna for some time now aka, survived the longest in comparison to its predecessors (this is deliberately a reference to Tiddles from the Flux Buddies series). Lalna is very attached to it at this point which is why he makes a point of checking on its status whenever he has a free moment after a gunfight.

Granted, it’s a digistructed copy of the original that he sends into battle but any modifications he makes to the original are carried over to the copy. If Larry Robert ever does permanently pass away (highly unlikely but still), Lalna is actually going to be very upset and isn’t going to replace Larry Robert right away.

The jailbreaking and Lalna’s handiwork will eventually allow Larry Robert to spawn an additional two arms so that it can shoot both rocket launchers and assault rifles as per one of Lalna’s [skill trees](http://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/125166693119/love-this-still-sort-of-a-new-fan-so-you-might); so really, jailbreaking Larry gives Lalna a bit more freedom to experiment. The guns and rocket launchers were originally a joke when he got bored one time but he kept them on Larry Robert just in case he ever needed some ‘extra leverage’. Turns out that it’s actually useful on Pandora!


	39. daltos' lieutenants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/144031789324/guide-daltos-lieutenants)

**Daltos’ Lieutenants**

  * have been recruited, talked into or beaten into joining him at some point over the years.
  * only about three or so lieutenants have been with him from the very start (i.e., when the frigate initially crashed onto Pandora).
  * most go by he/they pronouns.
  * all of them go by world war ii aircraft names.
  * they all look more intimidating than him (with the exception of arsenal who looks fairly ordinary).
  * 99% of them wear navy blue on them somewhere which is the blitzkrieg blighters’ primary color.
  * those originally with Dahl have asked klemm to remove the military rank insignias from their forehead not too long after Daltos ripped out his.



**Arado, aka, Scarface (Badass Marauder):**

  * he hates being called ‘desperado’. everybody calls him that behind his back.
  * highest ranked lieutenant (next to arsenal); he’s the one primarily in charge of the frigate while daltos is away.
  * his sense of humor is very cut and dry. matches daltos in his sarcasm and wit.
  * tends to go along with daltos’ plans but is overly cautious. he doesn’t like taking unnecessary risks unless he knows for sure that everything will work out in his favor.
  * he gives a different story every single time people ask about the scars on his face. (e.g. ‘so, how’d you get those scars? very aggressive kittens.’).
  * has a mean temper when provoked. that said, is difficult to provoke. he does get irritated very easily though.
  * one of his oldest lieutenants in the sense that he was one of the first who joined daltos after he started his takeover of the east coast and as such, understands how daltos’ mind usually works.
  * generally respects daltos. doesn’t stop him from taking the piss out of daltos every now and again or vice versa.
  * ‘scarface’ is daltos’ personal nickname for him because ‘his face is as ugly as shit’. prefers to be called ‘arado’ by everyone else.
  * has a real name. only daltos knows it.
  * oversees supply transport to and from frigate, relaying orders and helping daltos coordinate shit. not much good for anything else unless daltos wants a mass murder on his hands by sending him directly into the fray.
  * taller than daltos by a head or so. thus, is the one most frequently mistaken for daltos when tagging along with him to meetings elsewhere. arado finds it hilarious. daltos fucking hates it.
  * named after the arado jet series of world war ii aircraft.
  * doesn’t nag daltos, but rather, makes very pointed remarks about the smoking by quoting statistics and health risks.
  * carries around an old, dented Crimson lance helmet. they don’t like wearing it indoors but will always be found wearing it outdoors. he’s actually pretty attached to it, also possessing a set of have a set of old crimson lance armor to go along with it.
  * said helmet was stolen and painted navy blue by hawker (who claims he was doing him a favor annnnddd lost a tooth from arado finding out and punching him). arado has never managed to completely wash off all the paint. he doesn’t like people staring at him if he goes outside so he tends to wear the helmet if he’s heading off somewhere.



**Gothaer or Gotha (Badass Goliath):**

  * people stopped calling him ‘tiny’ after he kept ripping people’s heads off.
  * he was the lieutenant who died in chapter eight after being gored by nanosounds’ tentacle. his unit was eliminated after by the bloody bandits, a horde of rakks and a single ex-vault hunter.
  * daltos kept breaking his fingers bc pointing is rude and also, bc he wouldn’t shut the fuck up during a meeting (he forgot to use his indoor voice; he has one but rarely uses it).
  * gotha is one of the few who genuinely did respect and liked daltos despite that. knew that daltos could kill them even if they took their helmet off.
  * named after the gotha go p.60A/B day fighter.
  * their speech is slow but they generally understand daltos’ orders when he gives them any. daltos has to double-check though; sometimes they get carried away and daltos has to run damage control. it’s usually worth the risk of sending them out into the front lines, though.
  * he’s a lieutenant because compared to other goliaths, he can differentiate friends from foes if he takes his helmet off. usually.
  * cant is usually the one who has the job of retrieving his helmet and slamming it back on him so gotha stops his rampage.
  * he met daltos during the first year of his skirmishes. daltos kicked his ass despite gotha taking off their helmet. he agreed to join if daltos would spare his men.
  * gotha is in charge of the heavy infantry units (e.g. goliaths, bruisers) that aren’t under bachem’s watch. bachem tends to compete with him for the most kills during campaigns. gotha thinks bachem is a load of hot air.
  * stands at over two metres tall. tallest out of all the lieutenants. he tends to intimidate the younger and less tall lieutenants (e.g. hawker and hurricane).
  * his voice unsettles those who aren’t used to hearing him talk; it sounds extremely deep, tinny and distorted, even without the helmet.



**Cant (Badass Psycho):**

  * named after the ‘cant z’ series of italian aircraft.
  * incapable of saying anything other than their name, ‘cant’. is this an ‘i am groot’ reference. yes. yes it is.
  * they suffered a stroke years ago to broca’s area in their brain. can comprehend basic speech and simple sentences but is only ever capable of saying one word. broca’s aphasia is the name of this disorder.
  * can also read and use sign language. has difficulties writing due to mangled arm and botched grip. other arm carries a buzzsaw. they can do some serious damage to anyone if they punch hard enough with their bare hand (which usually has bracers on it for that exact purpose).
  * otherwise, is a two metre tall psycho who has to duck through doorways whenever they walk around the frigate due to their size.
  * tends to scream when they speak; they’re hard of hearing in left ear. no indoor voice. ever.
  * they’re in charge of ground infantry and are generally on the move alongside other forces.
  * they’re incapable of giving orders but can mobilize psycho and other ground units. daltos sees them as valuable because of this, considering psychos generally don’t tend to obey the other lieutenants.
  * cant met daltos when he frisked a town and flushed them out; cant negotiated a place in daltos’ gang for him and his bandits. has stayed ever since. even to this day, nobody knows how they did it.
  * appear to respect daltos? hard to tell. they do definitely like him though, having a tendency to follow him around if they see him.
  * likes stories. they prefer to be told or read them. they’re not picky about what type. daltos made the mistake of telling them a horror story in the hopes that they’d leave him alone but unfortunately, it backfired and cant is now a fan of them.
  * they don’t wear the blitzkrieg blighter’s colors; they have the gang’s insignia tattooed onto their back instead.
  * is the one who has nagged daltos the most about his smoking. usually by screaming about it to attract other lieutenants who also get in on the nagging.
  * they have an excellent memory. not that they go around bragging about it but if anybody ever tries telling cant the same story twice, cant will get offended.
  * is cheekier than they look and prone to doing whatever they want if they get bored.
  * surprisingly, they get along with most of the other lieutenants.



**Arsenal (Badass Raider):**

  * named after the french arsenal vg-33 fighters in 1940.
  * responsible for weapons management and machinery (e.g. buzzard, technical, monster) upkeep in frigate hangars and cargo bays.
  * former bridge crew member and engineer.
  * originally one of the few who first ventured out with daltos as a front-lines lieutenant. now prefers to stay inside due to an old injury.
  * quiet in unfamiliar company. is a non-stop chatterbox when it comes to those he’s familiar with. unknowingly intimidates others with his silence.
  * daltos takes his advice most seriously of all.
  * got shot in the leg during a mission with daltos; it aches if he wanders around too much. the bullet is still in his leg; he hasn’t removed it for fear of pushing it in deeper and causing complications. klemm’s responsible for most of the scarring.
  * second fastest pistol drawer on the frigate; nobody fucks with arsenal because of this. daltos has the honor of being the fastest quick drawer. they like to have competitions in the firing range whenever arsenal is up to it.
  * constantly nags daltos about his smoking as well.
  * he has a real name. he’d rather not go by it. will almost certainly murder someone if they find out and use it in front of him.
  * the other lieutenants are terrified of arsenal since he’s kind of their senior. it’s also because the quiet ones that are the most terrifying when pissed off. he is just as much of a bandit as they are, even if he’s not out there causing casualties.
  * brown haired. it sticks up in front. also has freckles. has dark green eyes.
  * is the only person who likes rations.
  * is the only other person who knew exactly what went down on the bridge between daltos and zylus. arsenal’s attitude towards zylus is unknown.



**Bucker (Badass Nomad):**

  * named after bucker flugzeugbau company and aircraft series.
  * he’s responsible for overseeing infantry and ground troop movement during campaigns and is rarely at frigate as a result.
  * is also cant’s very patient and long-suffering babysitter. bucker can usually decipher cant’s sign language and is generally the intermediate between them and the other units.
  * daltos or arado relays orders to bucker, who relays them to everywhere else. bucker also gives daltos status reports on territories. he always carries a set of long-range radio equipment on his back as a result.
  * he was one of daltos’ original bridge crew members who was with him when the frigate went down. as such, he gets along fantastically with arsenal.
  * is one of the few who isn’t actively trying to kill or search for zylus. bucker would rather avoid running into zylus.
  * that said, he has let zylus escape several times on his watch. claims it’s due to other factors. daltos turns a blind eye to this, given how valuable bucker is.
  * he and daltos have a mutual respect for each other.
  * also a former engineer. can repair, hotwire and jury-rig most vehicles using only the barest bones of a toolkit and parts lying around.
  * laid-back and very chill, even while murdering a whole town or crushing bachem’s fingers for another bunch of irresponsible losses.
  * cares a lot for his troops. well-liked amongst a lot of the units and other lieutenants because of this.
  * is actually a marauder in a nomad get-up. he is okay with being mistaken for a nomad.



**Bachem (Heavy Nomad):**

  * named after bachem ba 349 natter, german point defence rocket powered interceptor; surface to air missile.
  * in charge of remaining heavy reinforcements and hard-hitting troops.
  * always on the move with bucker. butts heads with bucker often over charging in or waiting for orders from daltos.
  * daltos has kicked his ass several times for insubordination and costing them several units. do not get along with him as a result. follows orders out of survival.
  * met daltos in battle; has never quite forgotten how he lost (was driven into a corner and forced to surrender and he wanted to live).
  * enjoys having power; abuses every little bit of it. number one cause of friendly fire during fights since he’s careless with his firepower. everyone else has learned to stay out of his way if they see him coming.
  * as heavy-handed towards his subordinates as you think he is. not very well liked amongst his men for as much. tends to pin the blame for failures on them too.
  * unfortunately, difficult to kill due to his tenacity. he is also armed with two rocket launchers. is incredibly accurate with them too.
  * is also not liked by the other lieutenants (greif is the only one who even tolerates him and even then, they don’t even like him that much).
  * he especially hates arado, given arado ranks higher than him. the two require supervision if they ever meet face to face.



**Dornier “Spitfire” (Elite Marauder):**

  * named after the german dornier do 17 (flying pencil) medium bomber, 1937 and series.
  * in charge of one of daltos’ buzzard units.
  * prefers carpet and napalm bombs in contrast to other usual buzzard attack mechanisms.
  * he is more typically utilized for destruction and intimidation tactics.
  * has had his nose broken by daltos twice for challenging him over disagreements on how they should proceed. is still salty about it.
  * talks big but is more bark than bite. foul-mouthed.
  * prefers incendiary weapons.
  * has a long-standing rivalry and pissing contest with hawker and hurricane. the three can’t agree on who’s the better pilot out of the three and who daltos prefers to travel with.
  * best friends with greif (see greif’s profile for why).
  * daltos doesn’t trust him one bit but keeps him around for his flight skills. they met when dornier lost to daltos in a brawl. he bet his gang as a prize and well, the rest is history.



**Klemm (Badass Bruiser):**

  * named after the klemm series in world war ii, transport aircraft.
  * runs border patrols and scouting parties out of the frigate.
  * is generally well-liked amongst the other lieutenants since he doesn’t pick fights and is one of the rare few to offer a helping hand without asking for anything in return.
  * best friends with fieseler. the two are rarely seen apart while fieseler is at the frigate.
  * he’s another person who likes to nag daltos about his smoking. the two do get along, though.
  * functions as a battle medic; has very little the way of formal training but can sew a wound shut and stop most bleeding. the rest is up to whatever deity is feeling nice that day.
  * is very difficult to faze; he’s seen a lot of weird shit in his lifetime. cant loves his stories.
  * originally part of gotha’s lot. joined when gotha surrendered.
  * has saved daltos’ life a few times with emergency surgery and patch jobs. the results left more scarring than necessary given that klemm isn’t a proper doctor.
  * he was also the one who butchered arsenal’s left leg when trying to extract the bullet. he failed but arsenal holds no ill will towards him for trying to save his life.
  * has a very deep voice.
  * fluent in pandoran. he’s their negotiator when it comes to talking to townsfolk about supplies and etc.
  * likes skags; unfortunately he’s not allowed to keep them as pets since they eat anything and make a mess.
  * in terms of age, he’s one of the oldest lieutenants. currently around forty years old.
  * resides in the frigate’s medical bay.
  * he survived lilith attacking him by playing dead amongst the bodies of his friends. 



**Fieseler (Badass Shock Nomad):**

  * named after the fieseler fi 103r (richenberg) pilot guided suicide fighters.
  * in charge of coordinating vehicular assaults for mobile forces. is away often because of this.
  * he nicknamed the air units ‘buzzard boys’. the air units hate him for this.
  * arsenal has banned them from entering the hangers and the frigate while their shock equipment is active.
  * he’s the frigate’s interrogator. is actually one of the more reasonable bandits on the frigate who tend to let mistakes slide. unless daltos says otherwise.
  * typically speaks in a mumble but always surprises people when raising his voice to relay orders (shouting volume is on par with cant, gotha and short stirling).
  * never takes off his coat and hat. ever. even in thirty degree heat (it’s really because they get sunburned far too easily).
  * big-hearted and known doler of great advice. troubled bandits tend to flock to him for advice. he doesn’t charge for giving advice.
  * they joined when klemm joined. he’s klemm’s best friend.
  * usually agrees with klemm. unless they’re talking about skags. fieseler believes that klemm should not be allowed to keep skags as pets (this is not because they chewed up his shock gear, they’re just  _menaces_ ).
  * knows magic tricks. cant is utterly fascinated by them and so are any bandits watching. they like to mutter ‘witchcraft’ while watching fieseler do them. cant makes him do it over and over again to figure out how; they still haven’t done so. 
  * remember those two boxes of food fieseler took? arado brawled him for them. ‘THE PRIZE IS MYSTERY LEFTOVERS’. it was a good fight. sometimes daltos can’t believe he lets these people into his gang.



**Hawker and Hurricane (Airbourne Outlaws):**

  * named after the hawker hurricane fighters/ground attack aircraft (1937).
  * the pair are rivals with donier.
  * in charge of air infantry units. usually, only one of the two is at the frigate, while the other one is away running jobs.
  * twins. one of the two is usually responsible for dropping daltos off. this is something they like to lord over donier. it always shuts him up.
  * daltos can never tell the difference between them while their helmets, goggles and masks are on. they delight in confusing him. he tends to shoot at their feet in response for wasting his time. sometimes arado will deliberately mix the two up to fuck with daltos. hawker and hurricane love arado for this (he denies any involvement).
  * were part of the original dahl military force acting as wardens on frigate when frigate went down.
  * loyal to daltos; they would have eventually been lynched or executed by firing squad for treason (they were one of the few conspirators who let the convicts out of their holding cells) if he hadn’t stepped in and killed the other captains.
  * have a friendly rivalry with focke and wulf. it’s less intense than the one they have with donier, though.
  * they know about zylus. they think it’s unfortunate how things went the way that they did. they have no ill feelings towards him. they like to pretend they haven’t seen him if he does appear.
  * hawker and hurricane are smartasses; they like to run their mouths and have absolutely no tact whatsoever. hawker is the more outspoken of the two but more dense. hurricane is the slightly more reserved and perceptive one.
  * they are a little terrified of arsenal given that they’ve seen him quick draw. despite this, they like him well enough to ask him for spare parts and things. arsenal thinks it’s funny.



**Greif (Pyro Nomad):**

  * named after the heinkel he 177 “greif” long range heavy bombers with engine troubles prone to fires.
  * in charge of ground infantry and suicide units.
  * best friends with donier. shares the majority of donier’s opinions on things. probably donier’s only friend amongst the lieutenants.
  * is on arsenal’s shit list after they accidentally exploded one of the vehicles arsenal was working on. while arsenal was in it. fortunately, arsenal was wearing a shield.
  * unfortunately, arsenal’s wrath is almost as legendary as his boss’s. does not like arsenal as a result. arsenal beat them within an inch of their life; donier actually stepped in at the last moment. why yes, this is how greif and donier became best friends.
  * neutral towards daltos. likes to say that he hates daltos’ guts when prodded by donier, though.
  * owes bachem a gambling debt. is under bachem’s thumb as a result.



**Blohm and Voss (Airbourne Outlaws):**

  * named after the engineering works company, blohm and voss and the jets (fighters and interceptors).
  * the pair oversee a series of buzzard factories on the east coast. only a handful of people know its location; it is also extremely well defended.
  * the two respect daltos well enough after he recognized the value of their expertise early on; they get along with him since they’re also fellow engineers and understand his unusual hobby of collecting ship parts.
  * met daltos when he initially came forward with an offer: join him and he’ll make sure that the surrounding gangs won’t intrude on their turf. essentially, ‘to leave them alone in peace to continue building their mass murdering toys’.
  * do not get along with junker; junker has stolen stuff from them in the past to sell.
  * these two spend almost every waking moment tinkering with machinery. it’s hard to get them to concentrate on anything that doesn’t involve machines. daltos finds them troublesome to talk to as a result, so that’s why he brings focke and wulf along as intermediates.
  * also, blohm and voss hate being interrupted and they talk a lot. they’re almost as bad as hawker when it comes to being motormouths (pun not intended).
  * originally scavs from elpis who hitched a ride to pandora when wanting to seek their fortunes elsewhere. they sound australian as a result.



**“Short” Stirling (Badass Midget Goliath):**

  * named after the 1941 short stirling heavy bomber during world war ii.
  * kicked daltos in the shin once after he asked, ‘how’s the weather down there, short stuff?’. to this day, he still has the scar.
  * the little stool in the meeting room is for them so they can see over the top of the table.
  * met daltos in battle; half of daltos’ lot cracked up when they walked out but proceeded to give him one of the most difficult battles he’d ever fought. unfortunately, they lost and joined up with daltos after.
  * they respect daltos for his ambition. in return, daltos doesn’t make fun of their height (not since the incident where he got the scar on his shin).
  * responsible for overseeing a number of territories and facilitating troop movement.
  * they’re also one of his lieutenants who are on the front lines a lot.
  * shouts everything they speak. even their whispering comes off as a shout.
  * actually fairly good overseeing territories; they have the largest chunks under their name.
  * cant is always amused by his size. stirling is not but sometimes stirling rides cant’s shoulder into battle to cover cant’s back.
  * and no, he’s not related to gotha.
  * likes arm wrestling.



**Junker (Plague Rat):**

  * known cannibal.
  * doesn’t like daltos but is only with him out of fear. kept around because of their extensive knowledge of the surrounding areas, ability to get machine parts and black market items.
  * they ferreted him out of his tunnel networks; he offered to work for them, providing information in exchange for being allowed to live.
  * former engineer. not an original bridge crew member.
  * nervous and skittish. tenacious once angered or if given sufficient motivation to fight. tends to burrow into tunnels/ground when hearing gunshots.
  * real face has never been seen. has a hunched posture.
  * in charge of searching through junkyards for scrap metal, spare parts and shipping them to buzzard factories or the frigate.
  * generally away on scouting missions and intelligence.
  * zylus has killed more of junker’s men than any other unit in daltos’ gang. this is because zylus frequents yards that junker oversees. he is very keen on killing zylus.
  * named after the junkers ju 388 (stortebeker) multi role heavy fighter (1944).
  * has stolen from blohm and voss in the past; he’s on their shit list and is banned from the premises (aka, shoot on sight). by extension, all the buzzard pilots hate his guts.
  * daltos prefers that he stay out of the frigate. arsenal would rather he be shot on sight if junker rocks up unattended. arado also always assigns bandits to watch junker; it’s common knowledge that junker has a habit of pulling the five fingered discount wherever they go (why yes, this is also precisely why blohm and voss hate his guts).



**Focke and Wulf (Airbourne Outlaws):**

  * named after the focke wulf series of aircraft.
  * they originally terrorized t-bone junction until zylus put up that shield; they’ve since given up on any attempts to bomb it. they don’t know that it’s zylus who put up that shield.
  * they oversee several neighboring territories under the gang’s name and are responsible for tasks that require air support. as such, they have the largest air infantry units out of the ‘buzzard boys’.
  * they’re also responsible for keeping communication lines open, troop drop off and for delivering supplies.
  * have a friendly rivalry with hawker and hurricane.
  * dislike donier bc he ain’t got nothing on their achievements and flight skills.
  * they get along with everyone else, for the most part.
  * wulf gets the orders from everyone else for what to do and tells focke them. focke does not like being told what to do; he tends to do whatever he feels like. which is bad for coordinating strikes and missions. this is why wulf is the slightly more reasonable one. focke does not mind being told what to do by wulf.
  * were originally part of fieseler’s ground forces until blohm and voss shipped in another load of buzzards that needed unit leaders. focke and wulf volunteered for the promotion, being the glory seeking assholes they are. they fought several others for that promotion during a brawl and won.
  * they don’t care if daltos is the leader, they just want to wreck shit; them being under his command lets them do just that.
  * reckless but reliable. mostly.
  * surprisingly, these two get along with blohm and voss because they tend to push their buzzards to the limit; they like to test out whatever new improvements the engineers implement. in short, they’re like human test dummies with daredevil tendencies. nobody else is that daring (not even hawker and hurricane).
  * maintain a pair of custom buzzards, given how often they’re in the air.
  * these two were responsible for naming the gang. daltos has never quite forgiven them for coming up with the name that caught on.



**Mess (Blaster Goliath):**

  * short for messerschmitt, named after the messerschmitt bf 109 aircraft.
  * nobody knows his full name. nicknamed after the fact that he leaves a gory mess behind on the battlefield wherever he goes.
  * in charge of outlying areas sitting on the border of the blitzkrieg blighters’ territory. also in charge of holding said areas until they’ve secured the surrounding areas.
  * originally from gotha’s unit who got promoted after holding the line during a series of back to back skirmishes.
  * their territories’ borders overlap with other lieutenants; mess frequently visits them, typically fairey most of all.
  * does not get along well with bachem, who they feel is inferior in firepower despite bachem being capable of matching them.
  * they do like bucker, though.
  * no, not related to short stirling or gotha.
  * doesn’t mind heinkel. likes to have snowball fights with them.
  * neutral towards daltos.



**Vought (Nomad Taskmaster):**

  * named after the vought F4U corsair fighters.
  * hates it when people make jokes about vought having ‘fought’ well.
  * loner, doesn’t report in much. has to be prodded to report in by bucker.
  * bad-tempered, even on a good day. dislikes visitors. hates heat, prefers the cold. hates snow.
  * likes the radio. an avid listener of fyreuk.
  * daltos promoted him only because nobody else wanted to see oversee the territories closest to heinkel.
  * neutral towards daltos.
  * has the least number of men in his unit and territory; his territory has been the most attacked given how easily they’re underestimated by rival gangs. vought likes to prove otherwise.
  * gets along with fairey the most out of all the other lieutenants based near them.
  * friends with klemm and fieseler. the two correspond quite often, if only to keep vought updated on the goings on at the frigate.



**Fairey Gannet (Badass Marauder):**

  * named after fairey gannet british carrier borne aircraft.
  * doesn’t care about being made fun of for their first name. that said, is likely to headshot whoever it is that is making fun of them.
  * likes sniping and is also armed with a shotgun for a nasty surprise.
  * corresponds with arsenal and arado over news and gossip. is arado’s best friend.
  * neutral towards daltos.
  * works in tandem with mess sometimes.
  * gets along with mess because they don’t talk much.
  * in charge of supplies in the outer territories and reporting skirmishes to bucker.
  * sometimes likes to take pot shots at focke and wulf when they’re passing by; the two like to drop flashbangs to blind fairey as they pass by in revenge.
  * hawker and hurricane refuse to travel to fairey’s place because ‘he’s a dick to the buzzards’.
  * siebel is the only one fairey knows not to piss off. also, siebel is reasonable enough.
  * likes to read comics. trades with siebel a lot for them.



**Heinkel (Armored Maniac):**

  * named after the heinkel he 111 series of aircraft.
  * one of the rare psychos who isn’t stark raving mad by possessing slightly more clarity than his brethren to oversee several territories of his own.
  * looks up to cant. he and cant like to hold their own private conversations using rapid fire sign language and psycho speak, much to the amusement of everyone else.
  * responsible for the furthest territories that are closest to the west coast. this is because it’s rather cold there and nobody likes being cold.
  * heinkel fucking loves snow. they also like snowball fights. and adding stones to snowballs.
  * do not like curtiss. they think curtiss is an asshole.
  * they don’t mind daltos.
  * makes the rakk ale everybody else drinks. got the recipe from ravs.



**Siebel (Airbourne Outlaw):**

  * named after siebel Fh 104 hallore series.
  * prefers ‘they’ pronouns. always clad in a bandit mask and goggles, even in blistering heat.
  * responsible for air patrol in the outer territories.
  * they do not like being on the ground when the fighting starts and are skittish around gunfire.
  * they’re an uncannily accurate bomber. daltos would have kept them around for their skills instead of donier but hawker and hurricane took offense; siebel doesn’t really do rivalries so they offered to bugger off to the outlying areas to patrol there instead.
  * possess an easygoing and thoughtful nature. they don’t like competitions or pissing contests and will happily yield if it means they don’t have to participate. they also don’t mind losing.
  * they have a reputation amongst the lieutenants for being the most laid back bandit. ever.
  * like daltos well enough.
  * tests buzzards, ammunition and bombs for blohm and voss. blohm and voss wish they’d be more specific though, on their reports.
  * in charge of scouting and flying solo missions extending outside the gang’s territories. it annoys donier that siebel never ever gets fired up about them.



**Curtiss (Badass Bruiser):**

  * named after the curtiss p-36 hawk american fighter aircraft.
  * responsible for vehicular deployment and maintenance in outer territories.
  * drives a custom monster around.
  * generally likes to boss siebel around. siebel doesn’t really mind, so long as curtiss doesn’t fuck up their patrol routes or bully their bandits.
  * bossy. kind of a prick and egotistical.
  * sucks up to daltos. sugary sweet to bucker. dislikes arado because arado doesn’t like kissassery. arsenal likes the flattery.
  * does not get along with vought or fairey (made fun of fairey once; fairey sniped the shit out of his monster when passing through; he hasn’t forgotten this slight). thinks heinkel is off his rocker.
  * was originally a part of bachem’s unit until they got promoted alongside mess.



**Fokker (Shotgun Midget):**

  * named after reconnaissance and bomber biplane aircraft made by fokker, the manufacturer.
  * traitor and deserter.
  * originally part of junker’s unit.
  * his name is mud with the rest of them.
  * no longer a lieutenant; is not counted as part of the twenty-five.



##  **Extras**

those listed on the same line can be considered roughly the same. e.g. daltos and arsenal are listed together, in age, so they can be considered the same age and height.

##  **Age**

**Oldest**

  * Klemm
  * Gotha, Cant, Arado, Focke, Wulf, Curtiss, Siebel, Fieseler, Bucker, Heinkel, Fairey Gannet, Vought, Mess, Greif, Bachem, Mess, Blohm, Voss, Junker, Short Stirling, Fokker, Donier
  * Daltos, Arsenal, Hawker, Hurricane



**Youngest**

##  **Heights**

**Tallest**

  * Gotha
  * Cant
  * Arado, Focke, Wulf, Curtiss, Siebel, Klemm, Fieseler, Bucker, Heinkel, Fairey Gannet, Vought, Mess, Greif, Bachem, Mess
  * Daltos, Arsenal, Hawker, Hurricane, Blohm, Voss, Donier
  * Junker
  * Short Stirling
  * Fokker



**Shortest**

##  **Rank**

  * Daltos
  * Arado, Arsenal, Bucker
  * Short Stirling, Gotha, Bachem, Klemm, Fieseler, Cant
  * Hawker, Hurricane, Focke, Wulf, Donier, Siebel
  * Fairey Gannet, Vought, Mess, Greif, Heinkel, Curtiss, Blohm, Voss
  * Junker, Fokker



##  **Frigate Lieutenants**

  * Arado
  * Arsenal
  * Hawker and Hurricane
  * Klemm



##  **Frigate/Mobile Lieutenants**

  * Bucker
  * Donier
  * Gotha
  * Bachem
  * Greif
  * Fieseler
  * Cant



##  **Territory Lieutenants**

  * Junker
  * Focke and Wulf
  * Vought
  * Mess
  * Fairey Gannet
  * Blohm and Voss
  * Short Stirling
  * Heinkel
  * Curtiss
  * Fokker
  * Siebel




	40. arsenal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/146837389479/a-ramble-about-arsenal)

arsenal has been stuck on pandora for months now. it’s likely been close to a year, possibly more, by the time he meets lomadia. i dropped a ‘blink and you miss it’ hint in a post a while back in regards to him being trans; the fic ‘they danced by the light of the moon’ briefly touches on it.

him being trans has never negatively affected his career progression back when he was a bridge crew member! he was slated to become a captain, though he delayed his promotion from a lieutenant due to his top surgery. as he mentioned, it was fully paid for by dahl as part of his joining up with them.

he was roughly nineteen at the time and fully aware that it’d take him a while to get back on his feet, if he chose to go through with it.

the transitioning process properly started when arsenal entered the dahl military at sixteen. now, when one enters the military, one has to attend a number of classes. one of those is dahl’s hilariously comprehensive and mandatory sex education course. they spent billions developing it. they hire professionals who know their stuff and aren’t afraid to answer anything. anything, without batting an eyelid.

the course (spread out over several weeks) covers everything, from biology, consent, abuse, stds, contraception, sexuality, gender, orientations; anybody who finds it a laughing matter are kicked out since dahl take this shit seriously. banning people from boning has never worked out well in the past so they’ve just resigned themselves to at least telling people how to bone safely. it’s cheaper, for one thing.

that course gave arsenal all the information he needed to start his transition, starting with top surgery and filling out all the paperwork to begin.

he had to wait until he was almost nineteen to finish his degree and basic training, plus formalising his transfer to a proper frigate before finally getting time off to get the surgery scheduled.

he had to request medical leave and checked into one of dahl’s hospitals. the surgery was a success. the second he was cleared to leave the hospital, he immediately moved into the frigate requesting his transfer (the very same one that’d later strand him on pandora).

he was in the middle of recovery when he met daltos and zylus. the two do know; daltos threatened to punch anyone who had any issue with it. or make their life very difficult. zylus also said as much, surprising daltos because it’s usually zylus telling daltos to calm down. arsenal laughed and replied, ‘only after i’m done with them’.

lomadia is the first person who’s not a bandit that he’s come out as trans to. that should highlight how close they became. the other lieutenants in the blitzkrieg blighters already know, as well as the rest of arsenal’s unit.

in the fic, arsenal was more worried about her being offended that he never answered her question, and with how he brushed her off. her question brought up the issue that he’s not quite come to grips with being stuck on a world that eliminates the possibility of him fully transitioning.

that’s why he took so long to respond to her question; he was busy trying to figure out how to word his answer and doing some personal reflection.

he also doesn’t make it a point to tell everybody he meets that he’s trans since he views it as inconsequential; they should be more worried about the fact that he is going to kick their ass if they don’t show up for kitchen duty after skipping it for the fifth time in a row.

if people in the borderlands universe don’t give a fuck about sexuality, they wouldn’t have any issues about someone being trans. while arsenal is 100% comfortable with his body at the moment, he thinks that it’d be nice to further his transition. obviously, he can’t do that at the moment.

the above doesn’t reflect everyone’s journey, since this is simply one character’s perspective and their personal choices regarding that. if i’ve somehow portrayed that or something inappropriately despite carefully researching it, please let me know so that it can be fixed.

by the time we run into arsenal again (years later, in ‘how to influence bandit’s and befriend them’), he’ll have made peace with the idea that it’ll never happen.

it also doesn’t affect him being a bandit one bit! if anybody ever says anything (and it’s incredibly rare because 99% of bandits are a pretty decent lot despite the persisting stereotypes), daltos will personally string the person up by their intestines. that’s only after arsenal’s beat the shit out of them. and the other lieutenants.

so yeah, that was a long ramble. arsenal will pop up again in another ‘btb’ fic and eventually, in ‘tlvh’. arsenal being trans isn’t going to explored in greater detail (for now), since he’s 100% comfortable with how he currently is.

he’s had literal years to think about it and has come to the conclusion that his energy is better spent elsewhere, like how to make his left leg stop fucking hurting again, how to best troll daltos, how to fix the grinder, whose face does he have to beat in for exploding a technical again, that sort of thing.


	41. education

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/146152038114/a-random-headcanon-post)

  * Rythian: degree in xenoarcheology and history. would have finished it if he hadn’t gotten stuck on Pandora.
  * Lalna: degree in robotics and technical engineering. took an elective in weapons engineering.
  * Nanosounds: degree in business management. CEO stuff, basically.
  * Will Strife: degree in business (with elective in engineering) and accounting.
  * Xephos: degree in business and computer science.
  * Honeydew: degree in mining logistics and business.
  * Trottimus: degree in science, specialising in weapons development.
  * Djh3max (Ross): degree in architecture.
  * Alsmiffy: highschool dropout.
  * Teep: finished military school.
  * Ravs: bunch of certificates. Also certified ass kicker (it’s a bandit thing, okay).
  * HybridPanda: homeschooled by mother.
  * Saberial: homeschooled by Panda’s mother.
  * Zoeya: PhD in biology and zoology. Professor.
  * Nilesy: degree in tourism and business.
  * Strippin: certificates (railroad engineering, electrician and mechanic).
  * Benji: certificates (railroad engineering, electrician and mechanic).
  * Lomadia: degree in veterinary science/biology.
  * Lalnable: degree in medicine (specialising in surgery), with online certificates (e.g. general practice, midwifery, basic nursing).
  * Turpster: completed high school.
  * BruteAlmighty: degree in architecture and sound engineering.
  * iFirez: degree in sound engineering and architecture.
  * Martyn: completed high school.
  * Zylus: degree in aerospace engineering.
  * Daltos: degree in mechanical engineering.
  * Arsenal: degree in mechanical engineering. self taught in weapons engineering.
  * BebopVox: expert on rom com analysis.
  * Parvis: high school dropout.
  * Sparkles: high school dropout.
  * Sjin: degree in business.
  * Sips: high school dropout. won a scholarship to business school in a poker game.
  * SherlockHulmes: degree in business.
  * Batmanmarch: homeschooled.
  * LittleNommer: homeschooled.
  * MintyMinute: went to military college.
  * Pyrionflax: graduated from university with a degree in computer science.




	42. arsenal part two) featuring minty's boner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here is a bunch of absolutely useless but important facts about arsenal’s pet kraggon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/163394710704/a-headcanon-post-about-mintys-boner)

  * boner smells like old spice guy, no matter what and it is a large, ongoing mystery as to why boner smells like this regardless of what boner rolls around in or eats
  * boner knows the command ‘vore’ (which also doubles as a bandit meme, like for example ‘hey arado, watch me vore this ration bar in one go’).
    * ‘vore daltos’ is an incredibly specific command arsenal uses on daltos
    * “BONER, VORE DALTOS!”
    * “…he’s not very good at this because he’s only attacking my boot.”
    * “HE’S TRYING HIS BEST!”
  * boner is not a destructive boy, he’s just hungry
  * the command ‘unvore’ does exactly what you think it does, and arsenal uses it rarely but it has come in useful on several occasions
    * daltos denies it (after boner ate his favourite smg and arsenal demonstrated precisely why it’s a useful command)
  * the first time boner barfed (it is also a way to show affection), arsenal didn’t know whether to be disgusted or happy at this since boner made a little pile of barfed things to show him
    * “ew, but thanks for the presents?” he sighs, pats boner and goes to get a mop but he’s pretty much gotten used to it
  * boner has the energy level of a badass skag hopped up on five energy bars
    * this means that arsenal is often passing off boner onto willing bandits who can put up with boner’s stamina
  * “i’m taking my boner for a walk.”
    * boner loves walks
  * “i have a boner and i’m not afraid to use it.”
    * boner can also attack and it’s really cute to watch (no bandit shins were harmed in the training; not permanently, that is)
  * boner is pretty light for a kraggon; arsenal can pick up boner without falling over which is good especially if boner refuses to move when lazy, stubborn, tired or full
  * top three things that boner burfs nonstop at:
    * whenever daltos smokes
      * boner has eaten his smokes on several occasions which annoys him
      * daltos has been stuck for two hours patting boner but it’s the only way to smoke in peace without boner burfing up a storm the entire time
    * whenever daltos is using the coffee machine
      * arsenal claims he didn’t teach boner to act like a fire alarm
      * to boner, smoke is bad and bandits seem to react badly to that so he wants to help!
    * whenever arsenal is in the shower because water is bad for a kraggon and boner’s gotten better about it, but it still happens; namely, a lot
      * the first time this happened, boner dragged daltos all the way downstairs to make sure arsenal wasn’t drowning or something
      * listen, hot water is a precious resource and if arsenal had to cheat in poker to get hot water privileges, then so be it and an anxious baby kraggon’s not gonna stop him from enjoying a hot water shower
      * “it’s just some water, buddy, don’t burf!”
      * “BURF!!!!!!!”
  * arsenal used to get the shit scared out of him whenever he used to sleep because imagine being about to nod off when you hear the softest and gentlest noise coming from under your bed:
    * “burf.”
  * boner’s ability to recognise himself is debatable because boner is surprised when the mirror burfs back and gets very disappointed when the mirror doesn’t lick back
  * boner’s default body temperature means that arsenal doesn’t have to worry about stealing blankets in winter
  * ‘burf’ sounds a lot like ‘barf’ which is exactly what one of boner’s favourite things to do is
    * stuff that boner regurgitates remains oddly dry unless boner ate something wet, so in that case, hello slobbery item
    * it’s common knowledge that anything left on the floor is fair game for boner to ‘monch’ on; there are signs posted around the frigate (made by parvis and co) warning bandits about this tendency because once boner eats it, it now belongs to arsenal
      * irate bandits attempting to forcefully retrieve items from boner get put in the naughty corner or are used as target practice
  * boner’s licks are very dry and wake arsenal up; it’s like having your face rubbed with a dry towel
    * if it doesn’t work, boner will lick the back of his head
    * arsenal took boner up to daltos’ room and boner did exactly these two things to try to wake daltos up
    * “so this is to how to wake up a bro with a persistent boner.”
    * daltos threw a boot at arsenal for that comment
      * the dry blep photo of boner immediately took off on the echonet after arsenal posted it
      * he’s still really proud of it and boner
  * arsenal calls his kraggonsitters ‘bonelievers’
    * “BONELIEVERS, ASSEMBLE IN CARGO BAY B FOR THIS WEEK’S KRAGGONSITTING SCHEDULE!”
    * “arsenal, stop using the pa system for this shit.”
    * “THIS JUST IN, DALTOS IS NOT A BONELIEVER! SHUN HIM!”
  * arsenal’s still working on making boner a lot less friendlier because boner’s default reaction whenever the courier or a stranger turns up to the frigate is to burf once, then attempt to befriend them by wanting to play games
  * boner knows the difference between a grenade and a grenade mod
    * arsenal once jokingly threw a grenade mod but didn’t actually throw it
    * boner promptly took off and brought back an actual grenade, expecting pats
    * arsenal kicked the grenade outside, where it safely detonated
    * it took two days for arsenal to teach boner the difference between a harmless grenade mod and ‘no, this is the explody and bad thing’ so boner would stop bringing him grenades when wanting to play fetch
  * whenever arsenal changes the sheets on his bed, boner hops underneath it and is generally in the way (boner is helping)
  * boner is actually growing but the growth is barely noticeable; if boner did reach their full size, arsenal is not likely to notice because boner’s boner to him, no matter how big boner grows
  * boner’s collection of squeaky toys is forever changing because boner’s jaws are incredibly powerful and will make short work of most items that are great to chew on
  * one time, boner ate a bottle of rakk ale and promptly breathed fire when burping (because boner also ate daltos’ lighter)
    * it remains to date, one of arsenal’s favourite party tricks
  * if anything were to happen to boner (i.e., another gang kidnaps boner), daltos and arsenal will declare all-out war to get that kraggon back
  * boner’s learned to bring arsenal’s echo device to him without barfing it back up; it was a very proud day for arsenal
    * daltos once woke up to an echo call with an internal view of boner’s strange stomach, and arsenal crying a lot because ‘BONER, WHY DID YOU EAT MY ECHO DEVICE, THAT’S NOT REALLY EDIBLE’, which is weird because arsenal doesn’t bat an eyelid when boner eats gas canisters and is super gassy for the rest of the day
  * during an annual spring cleaning, someone left the panel off a ground level air vent and boner wandered into it and lo and behold, the panel got closed up so boner proceeded to explore the air vents
    * arsenal got a tiny bit worried and placed a piece of skag jerky down
      * he also yelled through the frigate’s PA system, “DALTOS, I NEED HELP FINDING MY BONER!”
      * daltos sometimes regrets giving arsenal echo access to said system
        * “DALTOS I NEED SOME SWEET LOVING, SO GET DOWN, WITH YA PAL!”
    * boner immediately showed up in a ceiling vent above arsenal and daltos (which is weird since kraggons don’t exactly have visible noses)
    * “how did boner get in there?”
    * “he’s a very smart boy!”
    * “then if he’s smart, he can get out of there.”
    * “uhhhhh.”
    * arsenal eventually found a ladder, opened up the vent and pulled boner out
    * later, boner threw up lots of things which were not limited to secret booze, dirty magazines, dust bunnies, rations, and a few guns
    * to this day, more than a few bandits are paranoid about the sound ‘burf’ coming from the vents
  * the other frigate lieutenants like boner in the follow order (top is BFF while bottom is ‘i will kill that kraggon if left alone unsupervised with it’):
    * klemm
    * hawker and hurricane
    * arado
    * bucker and cant
    * gotha
    * fieseler
    * greif
    * dornier ‘spitfire’




	43. trottimus, djh3max and alsmiffy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/135640147564/calibornsenpai-there-are-very-few-things-i-have)

**the one cat got away**

Trottimus feels like banging his head against a wall, more specifically, a brick wall. He’s been sitting in a cafe for the past hour, forced to endure Ross and alsmiffy’s banter the entire time.

Well, there’d been ten minutes of blissful, beautiful, banter-free minutes where the waitress had walked over to see what they’d wanted to order. That’s five teeth-gritting minutes of Ross scrambling to find something meaty on the menu which had been trapped under his elbow the entire time.

When it comes to alsmiffy, he wants to know if the place came with straws and if they had straws, could he possibly have a curly one? Did it come in green? No, he’s changed his mind, he wants the red one. No, he’s not ordering  _anything_ , clearly they didn’t cater to people with gas masks and maybe they should consider that,  _hm_?

The barely suppressed look of strained patience crossing the waitress’ face is entirely mutual, Trottimus would like to reassure her. He wants to slide under the table and turn into a puddle from the amount of secondhand embarassment. When the waitress turns to him, he just orders the daily special seeing as Ross wouldn’t let him have the menu to  _peruse it in the first place_.

The waitress looks like she could have kissed him. He would have slipped her fifty dollars just to fuck up their orders so that alsmiffy and Ross don’t do what always comes next once she’d wandered off with their orders.

Every single time, without fail, his two friends managed to latch onto whatever harebrained thread of the conversation they’d left hanging and follow it up. Trott knows. He’s been keeping track, ever since they started eating out thanks to alsmiffy burning down their kitchen in a misguided attempt to make _toast_.

Yeah, Trottimus is still figuring out that one (and alsmiffy is permanently banned from kitchen duty).

The thing about Ross and alsmiffy’s banter is that it’s not like other banter. Normal people could banter using their voices at a reasonable volume. Normal banter stayed on track, turning into small talk or engaging topics that everybody could get stuck in, really sink their teeth into.

Once Ross and alsmiffy really got going, they tended to slowly creep towards the ‘shouty’ end of things as their time out went on. Thier banter stayed stuck on ‘weird, weirder, even wieder, no, even more weirder’ track and just kept going.

It gets worse if they’ve consumed copious amounts of alcohol, the two of them guaranteed to start shouting in record time.

If Trottimus had known where their mute buttons were, he would slammed those suckers the moment he’d known about them, faster than one could say ‘Truxican dominatrix’.

The three of them have been kicked out of places before when the banter had dissolved into a fistfight. It’s usually over some bit of trivia the two are dead wrong about and ended up disagreeing, like that one time Ross hadn’t believed something called a star-nosed mole could exist.

Other times, one of them saw no way to win and simply started a fight to get out admitting that they’d lost. By the end of it, the two of them have forgotten what it’d been all about in the first place. Trottimus of course, is saddled with the cringeworthy memories that he sometimes has nightmares about, waking up in a cold sweat.

If Trottimus hadn’t known these two for years, he would have been sure that the entire setup is contrived and is secretly a method of torture designed to drive him slowly out of his mind and up the wall.

He tends to sit out on the banter, reduced to playing babysitter from the sidelines. 99% of the time, it’s because he doesn’t follow what sort of random leap Ross and alsmiffy tended to make to get to whatever they needed to go. The remaining 1% is pure luck in that he just happens to get it and actually enjoy participating.

There’s laughs, yes but that tended to attract stares whenever a grown man dissolved into high-pitched, childish giggles and the masked one howling in perfect, mime-grade, silent laughter. He just sat there, playing the straight man to whatever act these two have got going.

Trottimus just stares into the sky and wonders how his life came to be like this.

“You’re not  _getting_  it, Ross!” Frustrated, Alsmiffy slams both of his elbows onto the table, gesturing both of his hands towards Ross like he can’t believe he’s that dense. 

All he’d need to complete the look is to turn his head in Trottimus’ direction, wanting Trottimus to come onto his side.

In all fairness, Trottimus believes that Ross could be awfully dense sometimes. This is one of those times, alsmiffy included.

Trottimus puts out a hand to steady alsmiffy’s glass of water before it topples, spilling its contents all over him and alsmiffy flies into a rage as a result (he tended to get fiery, in the literal sense, once enraged). The curly straw clinks against the side of glass as it resettles.

“This is asinine, I’m going outside,” Trottimus declares (but in an indoor voice because he is not like these two assoles).

He’s had enough. He’s not sure if his brain can become any mushier from listening to Ross and alsmiffy break down weapon science, adding their own twist to make it ridiculous.

It’s almost like they’re making fun of his interest in the only way they know how: by exchanging banter about it. Right in front of him and refusing to be corrected. Ignoring him. Talking over him. Well,  _fuck that_.

“Yeah, see you later, mate.” Ross absently says, dismissing him with a wave of his hand, knocking over his own glass of water in the process. “Oops.” Water spills onto the chequered tablecloth, spreading  _everywhere_.

Trottimus is already out the door before Ross can flag him down to get tissues. The chagrined waitress is already on the case, striding past him with some.

Trottimus doesn’t have to look back to know that Ross and alsmiffy haven’t noticed his absence. Chances are that they’d look up any moment and wondered where he’d disappeared to. Alsmiffy is usually the worst. The longest time he’s spent not noticing Trottimus’ absence had been three hours.

The two are his best friends and yet. He can’t help but grumble as the cafe’s door clicks behind him, the bell above the door jingling merrily. “Stupid team mates, you can’t just try to involve me a little more…”

If there’d been a pebble in front of him, he’d have definitely kicked it. And kicked it some more until his irritation had completely bled away, taken out on the poor pebble.

When he looks up so he doesn’t bump into anyone, he’s met with a Quick Change Station. Yes, the machines made by Anshin that let anybody change any aspect of their appearance at the possible cost of skin cancer, growing a third limb, horrible rashes, blah blah blah, it’s all on the disclaimer scrolling around the top and sides of the machine.

The generic hologram of a person flashes ideas for looks, switching through a pre-programmed set every few seconds. Trottimus stands there, idly watching it. When a certain one appears on the screen, he strokes his chin, an idea forming in his mind.

He has a  _wonderful_ idea for revenge to get back at alsmiffy and Ross. First, alsmiffy, then Ross. A slow, calculating smile unfurls on Trottimus’ face.

A bunch of middle-aged women walking by immediately cross the other side of the street upon seeing his smile, tittering amongst themselves and clutching their handbags close. He’s too busy accessing the controls of the Quick Change Station to notice, of course.

Back inside the cafe, Ross nurses his new glass of water between his hands, sulking. Alsmiffy is oblivious, continuing to rant about what they could do to possibly spice up Ross’ melee attack

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, punching is all fine and dandy when you want to break someone’s skull in, but there’s no oomph to it, no flashiness, no style!” Alsmiffy snaps his fingers. If he’d been wearing his gloves, there would have been a tiny flame spurting out. And screaming from the people seated around them.

“I think my punches are perfectly fine,” Ross had pointed out.

“You’re  _boring_ , that’s what you are!” That had definitely hurt Ross’ feelings. He’d zoned out on the last minute or so of alsmiffy’s talking, waiting to see if alsmiffy would notice and apologize. Then carry on again like he’d never apologized in the first place. “And then after you duct tape the grenades to your fists, you punch them in the face! Then you’ll be blown back and I come…”

When Ross glances back at alsmiffy, he does a double-take, his eyes widening at the sight that meets him. He blinks. Blinks some more, unable to believe what he sees.

He rubs his eyes, hoping that he’d just eaten something horrid that’s currently having an effect on him. There’s no way that what he’s seeing is  _real_. Ross pinches himself on the wrist, not hard enough to bleed but enough to leave a mark on his skin.

He lets out an unmistakable giggle, attracting the attention of a few nearby customers who quickly dismiss it. That earns him what he feels is a quizzical look from alsmiffy (through the gas mask).

Alsmiffy stops mid-rant to give him the equivalent of a frown. Ross looks like he’s having a facial hernia, cheeks puffing out, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. Alsmiffy tells him so but is only met with further silence.

Ross giggles again, a more-pitched one, the corners of his mouth twitching.

The waitress who’d served them earlier smirks as she clears away Ross’ forgotten glass of water. She rides her face of the smirk when alsmiffy levels a glare in her direction. He turns back to Ross, who has clearly lost his marbles.

Is. Is Ross fucking _laughing_  at him? It starts as a impish giggle, then progresses into low chuckling and from there, it mutates into proper, full-blown laughter.

Alarmed, the other customers move to tables further away from them. Alsmiffy would have shouted ‘that’s laughter discrimination’ at them but he’s too focused on Ross.

“Smiff? You,” Ross clutches his sides and is actually banging on the table with a fist, wheezing as he tries to speak between bouts of crippling laughter.  “You’ve got something,” He laughs. “On Your,” Laughs some more. “Face!”

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” Alsmiffy growls in his most threatening tone, a fist clenching and unclenching on the table. There can’t be anything on his face, his face is hidden underneath a  _sodding_  gas mask.

“It’s-” Ross makes one more attempt to speak but fails, burying his face into his hands with his elbows on the table and continues to  _howl_ with laughter.

“You  _twat_ , what is so  _fucking_  funny?” He demands, his irritation growing into the desire to set this place on fire, including Ross.

Ross takes one look at him and slides off his chair, tears coursing down his cheeks.

Outside, Trottimus starts power-walking towards the nearest hotel, knowing that the game’s up. There’s not long before alsmiffy barges out of the cafe with gloves on, wanting revenge. He’s not coming home tonight to risk taking the full force of alsmiffy’s wrath head-on but that’s fine.

It’s entirely Ross’ problem, for once. Trottimus smiles to himself, wondering if he’s allowed to tinker on his surveyors in a five-star hotel room. He feels like treating himself tonight. Maybe he’ll get a massage at the hotel spa; he’s read that too much tension is bad for one’s health.

Ten minutes after he’s left the scene, alsmiffy barges out of the cafe,  _livid_ and screaming Trottimus’ name with an edge to it that promised singed clothing. Behind him, Ross throws down a fifty dollar note onto the counter, not caring about change because he’s too busy snickering and gasping for air.

He’s sporting black eye from alsmiffy but that’ll heal by morning.

 _Bless Trottimus_.


	44. lalna and nanosounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [original post.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/126991785159/doublearrows-hav-this-sketch-bc-god-im-so)

**the lift that keeps on giving**

There are plenty of things that Rythian does in his downtime. It’s such a nice change of pace to not be shot at or have to shoot that Rythian happily enjoys whatever breaks he manages to catch. The only place large enough to house them all is in Sanctuary Hole at the Crooked Caber; it’s a second home to the Vault Hunters at this point.

Rythian spends his downtime managing his inventory and supplies. He also sells guns, items or shields he doesn’t need to the vending machines (and only after the others have had their pick of what he scavenges after every job in the aftermath). The remainder of his time is spent writing their adventures into his journal, even managing to sketch out what he can remember.

He’s not that great of an artist compared to Zoeya, but when he pages through his past entries, Rythian feels that he’s done a fantastic job of capturing the pictorial essence of everyone and the memory of the moment.

After what feels like minutes, Rythian opens his HUD and is startled that what he’d thought was fifteen minutes had somehow changed to two hours flying by. Rythian puts away his journal, closes his HUD and leaves the room. He’s never dressed down during these lulls, more comfortable with layers of clothing than without.

He passes Will. Will is pacing back and forth and looking deeply occupied.

There’s a hilarious amount of paperwork spread out on one of the booth tables. Will’s got both of his sleeves rolled up past his elbows and his tie is nowhere to be seen. He pauses in his pacing to twirl a pen in his fingers, pausing to make a note on one of the papers before returning to his pacing.

Rythian guesses that even Strife can’t escape the paperwork on Pandora despite the bulk of their jobs involving anything but paperwork. He leaves Strife to it to go check on Lalna and Nanosounds.

Their room on the far left. Rythian knocks once and then enters when he hears somebody call from inside the room. He’s about to say a greeting when the sight inside stops him in his tracks. Rythian forgets about saying whatever is he’d intended to say, blinking instead.

Nanosounds has somehow managed to acquire one of Ravs’ old weights but it’s missing dumbbells on one side. In lieu of said dumbbells is Lalna. Lalna’s struggling to stay on top of the bar as Nanosounds goes through the motions of lifting. And of course Nanosounds and Lalna would have stripped down to their underclothes for the downtime. Their other clothes are likely drying or in the laundry.

Rythian’s long since grown used to the sight (also not seeing any point in complaining about it; Will always turns and walks off in the opposite direction muttering about ‘indecency’ but there’s no complaints from him either).

Lalna looks up at him, his entire body trembling as Nanosounds drops him and the weight before lifting them both up again. He manages a shaky smile, clinging onto the bar for dear life with his mechanical arm. His other arm is braced on top of Nanosounds’ bare shoulder for support.

Nanosounds is wearing an expression of profound concentration. She raises both of her eyebrows to acknowledge Rythian standing there in the doorway. She and Lalna are both sweating, beads of it rolling down their foreheads and bodies so Rythian hazards a guess that they’ve been at it for some time now.

Lalna not having fallen off at this point is somewhat surprising but then again, Lalna’s getting better all the time at living up to the title of Vault Hunter.

“How did you convince Lalna to get up there?” Rythian finally asks once the novelty of the sight’s worn off, leaning against the doorway.

“Didn’t take much convincing, actually,” Nanosounds happily says, sounding just a touch out of breath.

Above her, Lalna mouths 'help’. Rythian pretends not to see it, choosing to have a chat with Nanosounds just to see what is going to happen if he stalls for long enough.

“And why are you using Lalna instead of finding something else?” He fails to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Oh, he’s the perfect weight,” Nanosounds says. “I asked Will, but Will refused point blank. And you’re too tall and probably too light, so it came down to Lalna.”

“I see,” Rythian says, marveling a little at Nanosounds’ ingenuity. “Well, don’t kill him if he ends up falling off.”

“Lalna wouldn’t think of falling off after we’ve only just started, right?” She laughs, directing the last part of that sentence largely at Lalna, implying great consequences if he does indeed fall off (and probably onto her).

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lalna says a touch too desperately, his panicked expression vanishing so he can glare daggers at Rythian. Rythian resists the urge to chuckle in response because the force of that glare is offset by Lalna’s situation, underclothes and mismatching socks.

“I think lunch is in ten minutes,” Rythian notes, finally deigning to toss Lalna a lifeline out of pity.

Lalna’s eyes widen at having to hang in there for another ten minutes.

“Great! See you downstairs,” Nanosounds says.

She returns to lifting both Lalna and the weight as Rythian closes the door behind him to leave them to their combined task. Really, the things that they do in their downtime never ceases to surprise him.


	45. opening scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: I’m So Sorry by Imagine Dragons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post from [here.](https://borderlandscast.tumblr.com/post/128639791679/okay-if-this-was-a-playable-game-what-would-the)

Imagine a bird eye’s view of Pandora from space from a mining rig that’s orbiting the planet. Now imagine hurtling through the atmosphere to zoom in to the northwestern coast of Pandora, following some skags running alongside a train before the view aligns above a moving cargo train roaring through the last stretch of arid desert towards the snow-capped mountains.

Three figures are climbing up a ladder on the last carriage, helping one another up onto the top of the train. The three figures slowly move across the top of the carriages, until a flying buzzsaw embeds into the metal under one of the figure’s feet. 

The sound and sight startles them, causing them to shout and alert the other two and all three of them get ready for the boarding party by pulling out guns and firing at the technicals that have caught up with the train.

A convoy of bandit technicals converge on one side of the train. Bandits start throwing hooks and chains onto the carriage, climbing onto the train as the technicals keep up with the train.

One of the figures on top of the train moves to engage the first load of bandits with a Jakobs shotgun, teleporting over a bandit who’s just climbed up and is brandishing a gun. The bandit flails at the sudden teleport and whirls around in confusion to find see Rythian’s shotgun trained on their face.

Rythian pulls the trigger of his shotgun, causing blood and gore to spray out. Rythian proceeds to shove the body of the bandit off the top of the train before reloading. He calmly wipes a stray splatter of blood off his face with a thumb.

Rythian:

  * The Vault Hunter
  * A true mystery.



A flick of his wrist and the remaining bandits teleport away from the top of the carriage on thin air; gravity seizes them and seals their fate. More bandits make it onto the train and start to charge before Rythian can swing around in time to deal with them.

A loader digistructs in the middle of them, causing some of the bandits to fall off the train in surprise. Upon unfurling, the loader brandishes two assault rifles before executing a 360 degree turn and unloading the entire contents of the magazines of both rifles into the throng of bandits.

Cut to Lalna who’s ducked to avoid the gunfire. He stands and proceeds to fire his shock SMG into the chaos. He’s wearing an expression of mild concentration with his goggles pulled down over his eyes. He signals to his loader with his metal hand.

His loader switches to rocket launchers, turning to fire two rockets at the technicals still driving alongside the train. The rockets manage to hit two technicals, causing a domino effect, sending the fiery wreckages careening into the desert scenery and to rapidly fall out of sight. 

Three technicals remain from having pulled ahead safely, the bandits waving weapons, shouting curses and threatening the worst sort of revenge.

Lalna pushes his goggles up to his forehead. He flashes a grin and a thumbs up at Rythian and Will who are only just getting to their feet from having dived out of the way of his loader’s bullets as well. Rythian shakes his head as Lalna despawns his loader.

Lalna:

  * The Engineer
  * Locked and loaded.



Will finishes getting to his feet, dusting himself off as more bandits (who’d been smart enough to wait until the loader’s out of ammo) climb up near him. Will pulls down his sunglasses. He flicks a square metal panel from his cuff links (clearly digistruct modules in the shape of cuff links) before tossing it down in front of him.

It folds out into a mean looking turret that unloads bullets that tear through bodies, pinging off metal and scattering hooks and chains off the carriage. Some of the bandits attempt to fire back but the turret’s shield materialises, blocking their bullets and protecting Will. 

The barrels of the turret’s guns are smoking by the time it’s done, leaving no bandits standing. Will despawns the turret, flipping the panel back into his inventory.

One last bandit shakily climbs up the side of the train. Will hands him a grenade before diving towards Rythian and Lalna. The bandit stares at the grenade, reacting a second too late and attempting to fling it back when it explodes. When the smoke clears, cut to Will who is calmly fixing his tie and dusting himself off once more. 

Will Strife:

  * The Professional
  * Nothing personal!



Lalna and Rythian wave away the remaining smoke. The combined impact of buzzsaws and explosive barrels rock the carriage, causing the three of them to stumble. Will manages to successfully grab Lalna’s arm and steady him since Lalna almost falls off the top of the train. Rythian starts firing at the bandit technicals but they easily dodge his shots. 

The train starts to curve onto a track leading into the snowy mountains.

As the last bandit technicals draw closer to drop off the next load of bandits, a giant spiky, purple tentacle spawns out of a glimmering hole in front of them; one technical explodes as it directly collides with the tentacle. The unharmed tentacle serenely draws back into the hole which closes a second later. Another tentacle spawns, sweeping another technical off the road with a well placed swipe before also vanishing.

A lone technical with only one occupant speeds up to the very back of the last bandit filled technical, swiftly nudging it and causing it to spin and lose control on the ice slicked roads. It hurtles off a cliff and explodes. Nanosounds smirks in the driver’s seat of her technical as she pulls it up alongside the train, her tattoos and eyes glowing a bright purple before the glow fades.

Nanosounds:

  * The Siren
  * She’ll paint your town purple.



Lalna waves at her and she honks the horn of the technical in response. Up ahead near the front of the train beyond the four’s reach, more bandit technicals finish dropping off their passengers before abruptly braking as the cliff on their side of the road sharply approaches.

The bandits climb down the metal ladder between carriages, finally bursting into the front carriage. To their surprise, the train is automated; but there is someone who slowly turns around in the conveniently placed office chair, three surveyors digistructing into the air above their head.

Trottimus has his fingers steepled as he turns in the office chair to face the bandits. He’s smiling expectantly as the three surveyors let loose electric bolts that shock the bandits standing closest to him.

Trottimus:

  * The Technician
  * Survey this, assholes.



The surveyors dive bomb the ones in the doorway, causing them to scramble into the opposite carriage before the surveyors come around again. 

A low growl greets the bandits.

The bandits freeze, their heads snapping upwards to stare at the giant looming, wolf-shaped figure whose jaws clamp around the nearest bandit’s head and rips it clean off before swiping out with claws that slice clean through the next bandit, separating them into two bloody halves. 

The bandits scream as the wolf-shaped figure slices and dices through half of them with a charge before turning around and transforming back into Ross.

Ross pulls out a Torgue rifle and starts shooting while grinning wolfishly, not at all mindful of the blood streaking his mouth, teeth and suit.

djh3max (aka Ross):

  * The Wolf
  * Armed to the teeth (literally).



Ross runs out of ammo, frowning as his gun clicks. The bandits who haven’t been clawed to death stand up and train their guns on him. Ross raises both eyebrows before waving to someone behind the bandits. The bandits turn to see who he’s waving to. Ross flips the bandits the finger before diving out of the carriage and slamming the door shut behind him, appearing to join Trottimus in his carriage.

Something hisses with the accompanying sound of metal clinking. Alsmiffy casually saunters up from the back of the carriage (where he’d been waiting the entire time, just out of sight). The bandits chuckle and laugh amongst themselves at alsmiffy’s lack of guns. 

Alsmiffy appears to silently join in before he raises both of his hands and lets loose a massive flame from both of his gloves that sweep the entire width of the carriage. The flames cause the bandits to scream as they get set on fire.

Alsmiffy:

  * The Pyrotechnician
  * Will light up your world.



Several bandits barge past alsmiffy, having ducked under the flames and used their fellow bandits as charred human shields. Alsmiffy doesn’t appear to be too concerned about them.

A diamond shovel smacks one in the knees as they try to access the carriage in their rush to escape alsmiffy. The bandit instantly goes down, clutching their knee and shin. Honeydew steps out into view, brandishing the shovel like a shotgun. He roars, causing a bandit to scramble back and tip back over the railing and out of sight.

Honeydew:

  * The Miner
  * Good things come in small packages.



Honeydew proceeds to boldly smack the downed bandit in the head before taking the shovel and neatly tipping the unconscious bandit off the train. The last bandit charges him in desperation. The door behind Honeydew opens. Blue lightning flies over Honeydew’s head and shocks the bandit into submission.

Xephos gingerly steps out of the carriage and shuts the door behind them. They stash the mildly smoking taser back up their coat sleeve while skirting a wide circle around the bandit as if they’re still afraid of the bandit despite the bandit being unconscious.

Xephos:

  * The Scientist
  * A whole new world (and woes).



Alsmiffy exits his carriage, nodding at Xephos and Honeydew before jumping off the train and into the back of a technical being driven by Trottimus. Trottimus’ surveyors despawn one by one as they near Trottimus, having performed a final sweep of the train for stragglers they might have missed.

Trottimus impatiently hammers the horn of the technical. Ross is sitting in the turret, munching on the last of an energy bar. Ross swallows, tossing the empty wrapper over his shoulder before grinning and gesturing at Xephos and Honedyew to ‘jump’.

Honeydew (with a giant grin of his own) shoves Xephos forward, causing Xephos to momentarily flail before falling towards Ross. Ross easily catches Xephos and neatly deposits them into the back of technical next to alsmiffy. Honeydew lands on both feet in the space between Xephos and alsmiffy, only managing to barely fit because of his small size. 

Xephos makes a disgusted face at the blood Ross has managed to smear on them.

Nanosounds’ technical catches up to them. Her technical’s got Lalna riding shotgun in the turret, with Rythian and Will sitting in the back. Both the passengers and drivers of the two technicals acknowledge one another in varying ways as the train vanishes into a tunnel, now safe from being hijacked by bandits. Will rubs his hands together like he’s expecting a decent reward, his sunglasses perched on his head.

Before they can properly celebrate, both Trottimus and Nanosounds’ eyes widen. The two technicals abruptly brake at the same time; however, due to the ice on the roads, the technicals end up wildly careening over the cliff’s edge.

Everybody has a collective ‘fuck my life’ moment.

Everybody (including Nanosounds and Trottimus) is flung out of the technicals in midair and fall into the snow. The empty technicals crash and explode (thankfully not near them) upon hitting the ground. 

The nine, mildly dazed Vault Hunters get to their feet, shaking off any pain, pulling one another up onto their feet and checking that they’re all in one piece before noticing the giant crowd of enemies waiting and watching them.

It’s so quiet that a pin could drop and everybody would hear it.

The enemies rush forwards (like in [this scene](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2F5TW0wJTFLiw%3Ft%3D1m33s&t=OWMwYWQ4ZTA2YWVjYzQxMzQxYzVlNDQwMWI3NzI2YTkzYmU1M2I0YyxWc2dzQnRZOA%3D%3D&b=t%3AgdWBvoObiys_376Etn3eVA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fborderlandscast.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F128639791679%2Fokay-if-this-was-a-playable-game-what-would-the&m=0), mind the volume).

Except instead of charging to meet the enemies, the Vault Hunters turn around and run for their lives. Xephos idly waves a hand as if marking the mob before sprinting after the others, hands held protectively over their head. 

Five seconds later, a giant laser bombardment strikes the horde of enemies chasing them and causing the Vault Hunters to once again, be flung into the snow banks from the impact of the laser.

The ground shakes. Enemies are knocked off their feet, those caught in the laser disintegrating. At last, the laser stops. A giant blackened crater is left behind, unmoving bodies scattered this way and that around it.

One of the bandit’s torn jackets flutter to the ground with the logo ‘SIPSCO.’ embroidered across the back.

Enemies and Vault Hunters pick themselves up once again, each side readying to fight one another. The odds are stacked against the Vault Hunters but since when have they ever let a little thing like that stop them?

Fade to black.


End file.
